Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
The reaction from little Levi was enough, and another round of light, warm laughter serenaded the room, on ethereal ethers from the Caretaker. “You’ll be a mighty gale someday,” she assured, the beam of her radiance echoing, pervading, persisting, towards the dragonling. Maybe a storm, maybe a tempest, maybe airy zephyrs and calm, composed winds, but in full depths, fathoms, and control of the sky itself. What a marvelous and magnificent thought – to contort powers in perfect unison. Lena hummed at the notion, searching for more treats in her pockets – extending them out for either her sibling or Levi to take (it would no secret that she’d love to encounter the beast for herself, but she could be patient).
Tender notions and nuances had been her lifestyle. Compassion granted, given, sometimes to an emboldened degree, but never overbearingly so. If the realms, the kingdoms, the sovereigns wanted it, she could provide, with little to no hesitation. “I think the worlds needs more of it. Kindness.” She wasn’t delicate, she wasn’t feeble; strong and soft, dulcet and mighty, and had no inclination about what would happen to her, once she struck out into the wild. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Lena only yearned to provide for those who needed the support.
Tender notions and nuances had been her lifestyle. Compassion granted, given, sometimes to an emboldened degree, but never overbearingly so. If the realms, the kingdoms, the sovereigns wanted it, she could provide, with little to no hesitation. “I think the worlds needs more of it. Kindness.” She wasn’t delicate, she wasn’t feeble; strong and soft, dulcet and mighty, and had no inclination about what would happen to her, once she struck out into the wild. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. Lena only yearned to provide for those who needed the support.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
