Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
A smile lifted and lilted, harmonious and mellifluous even in its silence – until she stepped along boundaries and enclosures, dropping herself down to a crouch as some of the blink hares came towards her. They instigated flashes and beams of light in their teleporting torrents, making sparks in between hazes, figments of soft radiance she’d never be able to behold, but could admire all the same. And she held out her hand while Anju spoke, her head vaguely tilted to indicate she was listening, as her own makeshift crowd began to hover for the treats laden in her palm. “I’m fine,” she answered at first; the grin not strained, but merely defined, there as it so often was.
While little paws took or tiny teeth snagged, the rest of the contemplations curled and contorted through her. Changes on the horizons had been felt for seasons now – first a ripple, and now larger fragments, building and building, brimming and brewing, until there was going to be a point where everything began to maneuver outward. Sera had been working on defenses with demis. Cian had been bringing them together to discuss the Voice’s diabolical schemes (and the way she’d infiltrated Mort’s realm was still a terrifying notion). Anju, as part of the Dragoons, would eventually have an angle as well.
And there Lena remained, in her sanctuary. “Don’t you, in a way?” And she laughed, though the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. “I imagine you’ve been training for what’s to come.” Her eyes flickered upward, following outlines of the ivory dragon. “How is Riya?”
While little paws took or tiny teeth snagged, the rest of the contemplations curled and contorted through her. Changes on the horizons had been felt for seasons now – first a ripple, and now larger fragments, building and building, brimming and brewing, until there was going to be a point where everything began to maneuver outward. Sera had been working on defenses with demis. Cian had been bringing them together to discuss the Voice’s diabolical schemes (and the way she’d infiltrated Mort’s realm was still a terrifying notion). Anju, as part of the Dragoons, would eventually have an angle as well.
And there Lena remained, in her sanctuary. “Don’t you, in a way?” And she laughed, though the warmth didn’t reach her eyes. “I imagine you’ve been training for what’s to come.” Her eyes flickered upward, following outlines of the ivory dragon. “How is Riya?”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
