Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Her brows furrowed slightly at the lack of information, and then the notions that Luciana had been there again, despite her earlier misgivings. Some of those she knew and cherished were still some of the most perplexing people – but perhaps that was what made the world interesting, facets upon facets, layers upon layers, of beings who wove their way into fragments of the unknown and the strange.
With nothing more on the matter, she’d most certainly pry later, her attention deviated straight back to the dragon egg, stepping out of the way so Sera could fully occupy the expanse, be the first to stare upon its essence, to occupy the bond meant to solidify. Souls to contain and exude, a wonderful experience where they’d lace together and form something enigmatic and beatific, an affection, a link between spirits, a gift from celestial stars. “A dragon,” she repeated and whispered with a wrinkle to her nose, to a delight grown on sprigs of blossoms and light.
Then, as she’d known, the fledgling began its trek towards the open world. “Best let it on its own. They’re very proud.” As a species as a whole; to display their prowess, their strength, as soon as they occupied the realm, as soon as they entered, as soon as they drew first breath. But she quietly surveyed, eyes rapt and riveted just like her sister’s, awaiting that fateful moment – for cracks and scales, for leathery wings, for draconic interludes.
With nothing more on the matter, she’d most certainly pry later, her attention deviated straight back to the dragon egg, stepping out of the way so Sera could fully occupy the expanse, be the first to stare upon its essence, to occupy the bond meant to solidify. Souls to contain and exude, a wonderful experience where they’d lace together and form something enigmatic and beatific, an affection, a link between spirits, a gift from celestial stars. “A dragon,” she repeated and whispered with a wrinkle to her nose, to a delight grown on sprigs of blossoms and light.
Then, as she’d known, the fledgling began its trek towards the open world. “Best let it on its own. They’re very proud.” As a species as a whole; to display their prowess, their strength, as soon as they occupied the realm, as soon as they entered, as soon as they drew first breath. But she quietly surveyed, eyes rapt and riveted just like her sister’s, awaiting that fateful moment – for cracks and scales, for leathery wings, for draconic interludes.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
