Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Mittens might’ve been a difficult, impulsive, and overprotective little cretin on its better days, but it remembered Sohalia. She’d been one of the few it hadn’t had an opportunity to pummel or decimate with snowballs, so the emboldened notions were there, crystal clear and eager, fervent, ready – except memory also served that Lena would be unhappy. Unhappy meant no treats. It understood that connection well.
So it glowered and pouted the best way it knew how – shaping rock formations on its face. There was an ungodly, unearthly screech to follow, before Lena had dropped everything around the snakes, bag, balm, and all, to see what the matter was.
Alarm raised and breath rushed, she raced towards the gates expecting upheaval, and paused to note it was Sohalia, and not the world falling apart. “Oh phew! I thought something was wrong!” Her gaze went instantly to Mittens, who straightened upwards and seemed entirely unbothered by antics. Thereafter, her features gentled, tracing back over to the fellow Attuned. “But welcome to the Celestine! How are you?”
So it glowered and pouted the best way it knew how – shaping rock formations on its face. There was an ungodly, unearthly screech to follow, before Lena had dropped everything around the snakes, bag, balm, and all, to see what the matter was.
Alarm raised and breath rushed, she raced towards the gates expecting upheaval, and paused to note it was Sohalia, and not the world falling apart. “Oh phew! I thought something was wrong!” Her gaze went instantly to Mittens, who straightened upwards and seemed entirely unbothered by antics. Thereafter, her features gentled, tracing back over to the fellow Attuned. “But welcome to the Celestine! How are you?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
