Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
And so Stormbreak had risen.
And then maybe fallen. Lena couldn’t be certain, in the way leadership altered and changed rapidly, with Ronin disappearing and Anju taking his place, desperate to find some foothold in the ever-shifting world. But even that could be temporary, and then what would they be left with?
With no predilections towards such a feat, and yearning only for the comfort of the Celestine, things she knew, things she craved, the Caretaker spent much of her time amidst the animals. But then more and more showed up that were foreign to her entirely – causing her brows to furrow. Had Frey, or Rae, been creating more? In the wake of so much loss and devastation, ruin and alterations?
Rumors had spread about some birds, and she traipsed her way down towards the hot springs, careful, still mindful, of the way the waters seemed to hold glass at the bottom of its dwelling – seeing down, down, down into the abyss and city below. Basket in hand, toes light along rocks, she began peering closer towards a nestling of trees, intending to see if any nests were about; likely a picture similar to a peeking child amidst wrapped gifts.
And then maybe fallen. Lena couldn’t be certain, in the way leadership altered and changed rapidly, with Ronin disappearing and Anju taking his place, desperate to find some foothold in the ever-shifting world. But even that could be temporary, and then what would they be left with?
With no predilections towards such a feat, and yearning only for the comfort of the Celestine, things she knew, things she craved, the Caretaker spent much of her time amidst the animals. But then more and more showed up that were foreign to her entirely – causing her brows to furrow. Had Frey, or Rae, been creating more? In the wake of so much loss and devastation, ruin and alterations?
Rumors had spread about some birds, and she traipsed her way down towards the hot springs, careful, still mindful, of the way the waters seemed to hold glass at the bottom of its dwelling – seeing down, down, down into the abyss and city below. Basket in hand, toes light along rocks, she began peering closer towards a nestling of trees, intending to see if any nests were about; likely a picture similar to a peeking child amidst wrapped gifts.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
