[SE] Pickled, dried, salted, smoked

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

“It’s fine,” she whispered, handwaving the apology off because it was her own fault for being more than just a little air-headed. With a diligent sigh, she took back the bandage. “Not lost, was just perusing. I wanted to bring back some supplies for the animals…,” imagining quite a few of the carnivorous types would enjoy a feast of fish during LongNight’s ever-present haze.

Shaking her head and regaining her vantage point, and multitudes of composure, she permitted a smile, and an extension of her hand for more formal greetings. “I’m Lena.” Not making a personal note that she’d never met one of his kind, she continued with the pleasantries and introductions, figuring that might be better than whatever grumbling course she’d set them on. “Caretaker of the Celestine.”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm