Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Lena’s favorite season was one of Flowerbirth, for its simple essence, for the renewal in its promising stature. For Frey, and all their constituents, binding, blending, together in states of matter and wonder. Dedicated as she was, the youth had already adorned several portions of stonework (especially down the market squares) in fanciful, bright, illustrious hues, pretty lanterns alight with the sun came down, winding along intricate pathways to show inhabitants home. Or to the Celestine, which was practically where the Caretaker lived and breathed anyway.
But she’d seen the notice printed out on the board on her way, passing through and adrift momentarily. She’d always been fond of Gideon, eager to help and please, and so turned in the direction of the Temple with relative ease. Not barging her way in, but merely stepping into its confines, her eyes went to the features she’d known for so long – recalling, remembering, the dark burden and shadows cast within its sanction some seasons ago.
But not carrying that on her features, the woman’s smile was a radiant thing as she glanced about, finding the Priest exactly where she expected him. Hands tucked around her basket of items she’d snagged from kiosks and stalls that morning, she bestowed a warm, effervescent greeting. “Hello! I’d be happy to help!”
But she’d seen the notice printed out on the board on her way, passing through and adrift momentarily. She’d always been fond of Gideon, eager to help and please, and so turned in the direction of the Temple with relative ease. Not barging her way in, but merely stepping into its confines, her eyes went to the features she’d known for so long – recalling, remembering, the dark burden and shadows cast within its sanction some seasons ago.
But not carrying that on her features, the woman’s smile was a radiant thing as she glanced about, finding the Priest exactly where she expected him. Hands tucked around her basket of items she’d snagged from kiosks and stalls that morning, she bestowed a warm, effervescent greeting. “Hello! I’d be happy to help!”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
