we know very well who we are

Lena

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

“It won’t always be words.” Sometimes communication lilted through songs, through thoughts, through feelings, through emotions – energy poised, reverence refined, confusion imminent as the two became acquainted. Lena leaned back in her chair, sipping at her tea, pondering how best to describe the anomalies. Eventually she swallowed the hot drink, contemplating, notions conveyed in her usual rhapsody and cadence. “It will come with time too. He’s quite young.” A smile, tender and warm, followed, eyes darting back to the babe. “And experience. Once you get to know one another, and go out to see the world.” Once they understood what life had to offer beyond shells and fortifications – gaze down at the floor for a brief second, something flashing in her gaze, before it dissipated completely, and she listened to everything else flickering and basking along her sister’s intervals.

“Oh. That sounds divine.” Hot springs for any occasion, treatments or repose, held a particularly nice note of possibilities and tangents. Sera’s further excitement, the potential in calling Frey but the opportunity missed for an eel, was intriguing, and she arched her brow in her calm, compassionate composition, and then the grin embellished into its effervescent haze. “Amazing! Hopefully it will help.” And her sibling would be able to keep the container, which could only serve her well in coming days and seasons.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm