Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
“I’m all right,” content and sturdy with her supplies, even if there were a little extra. Strong and determined, she waved away any distinctions of worry on his part, opening the door to her apartments and permitting him to wander her by her as she shut it behind them. Thereafter, she meandered through the living room, until they got to the kitchen, where she could take out the cinnamon, vanilla, and start rifling through her cupboards for the rest of the ingredients and necessities.
Snagging at a bowl, her head lifted at the statements – wondering why the cleric continued to address Frey as ‘she’. Maybe that was how he’d viewed them – or wasn’t particular about pronouns. She smiled pleasantly, pondering over the distinction, before grabbing another bowl, figuring where they were making two different things, it’d likely be necessary. “I’m sure they will appreciate your efforts.” Her eyes went to his peaches. “Do you know what else you’ll need for a pie?”
Snagging at a bowl, her head lifted at the statements – wondering why the cleric continued to address Frey as ‘she’. Maybe that was how he’d viewed them – or wasn’t particular about pronouns. She smiled pleasantly, pondering over the distinction, before grabbing another bowl, figuring where they were making two different things, it’d likely be necessary. “I’m sure they will appreciate your efforts.” Her eyes went to his peaches. “Do you know what else you’ll need for a pie?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
