Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
His words were touching, and she smiled, a wider grin this time, glancing at the ground sheepishly. “Thank you. I hope I serve them well.” Then, once enclosures were locked and shut tight, one could only imagine the havoc three hatchlings could get into, she motioned towards the left, following over pathways of stones and stars. This trail had been repeated every day, either by skipping along mellifluous grace, or a tired stride, her pace dulling after hours, but steadfast assurance and faith often bolstered her onward.
The cloud wyrms buzzed happy, contented tunes upon their approach, and she advanced with a tender heart and soft hands, reaching for the bandages in her basket. Lena would replace this one and the rhampires before the sun truly set, and then set about with the rest of her tasks in feeding, watering, and checking in.
The gate was opened, permitting Finn to step within as he’d done with the dragons – but these relatives were a far warmer presence, and even though injured, still full of vibrant life, immediately circling and surrounding. Some fingers lingered to catch and pet, scratch and soothe, while they chimed and echoed in their distinct platitudes – one certainly searching the man’s pockets for anything valuable. “I did warn you,” she mentioned with a light laugh, before reaching for one of the more wounded creatures, unrolling one of the bandages to make way for another.
The cloud wyrms buzzed happy, contented tunes upon their approach, and she advanced with a tender heart and soft hands, reaching for the bandages in her basket. Lena would replace this one and the rhampires before the sun truly set, and then set about with the rest of her tasks in feeding, watering, and checking in.
The gate was opened, permitting Finn to step within as he’d done with the dragons – but these relatives were a far warmer presence, and even though injured, still full of vibrant life, immediately circling and surrounding. Some fingers lingered to catch and pet, scratch and soothe, while they chimed and echoed in their distinct platitudes – one certainly searching the man’s pockets for anything valuable. “I did warn you,” she mentioned with a light laugh, before reaching for one of the more wounded creatures, unrolling one of the bandages to make way for another.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
