Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Lena figured if she kept herself busy, then there’d be less of a chance to fall into despair.
While not the best way of coping mechanisms, it still beat the potential for violence, vehemence, and any other uprooted possibilities. Perhaps her role as Caretaker would be the best way to segment into certainty, rather than any other parameters. Especially while they figured out what was the next best step for Stormbreak.
She utilized the sky port, and clutched at her bag as she departed from the boats, a satchel full of notebooks and notations already made from other recent ventures. Biding her time, alone and adrift, towards the Arclight gave her some amount of peace too – avoiding any general melees as day turned slightly into dusk, and she could gaze out over this section and sanction of ocean without any calamity brewing on its waves.
And from there, with her eyes shielded from the sun, she could see the faint outline of the cloud mantas in their own habitat – breaching over the currents, launching for a few seconds, before descending back into the threshold of salty, sea brine. And with a smile, she plunked herself right down on the beach and sand, taking the closest notebook within reach.
While not the best way of coping mechanisms, it still beat the potential for violence, vehemence, and any other uprooted possibilities. Perhaps her role as Caretaker would be the best way to segment into certainty, rather than any other parameters. Especially while they figured out what was the next best step for Stormbreak.
She utilized the sky port, and clutched at her bag as she departed from the boats, a satchel full of notebooks and notations already made from other recent ventures. Biding her time, alone and adrift, towards the Arclight gave her some amount of peace too – avoiding any general melees as day turned slightly into dusk, and she could gaze out over this section and sanction of ocean without any calamity brewing on its waves.
And from there, with her eyes shielded from the sun, she could see the faint outline of the cloud mantas in their own habitat – breaching over the currents, launching for a few seconds, before descending back into the threshold of salty, sea brine. And with a smile, she plunked herself right down on the beach and sand, taking the closest notebook within reach.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
