Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Darkeye’s semblance of silence and lack of motions helped; the unicorn seemed to settle, somewhat, though Lena could still feel its heart beating in alternating rhythms, clearly contemplating if it should flee or not. Through soft croons and melodic hums, the Caretaker worked carefully, precisely, and quickly, placing the new gauze upon the mending wound, and intertwining the wrapping back in place. Thereafter, she rose back up again, slowly, granting the equine a pat along the back. “Well done. See you soon, dear.”
Then she turned back to Darkeye, taking hold of her basket. “There. We’re done here.” Permitting them out of the enclosure so the animals might have a decent supper and rest without any further disturbances, she began to make her way back to the bench, her sister’s lantern, and the paints. “I think dinner is in order now,” and she grabbed hold of her belongings, intending to make the trek back into town.
Then she turned back to Darkeye, taking hold of her basket. “There. We’re done here.” Permitting them out of the enclosure so the animals might have a decent supper and rest without any further disturbances, she began to make her way back to the bench, her sister’s lantern, and the paints. “I think dinner is in order now,” and she grabbed hold of her belongings, intending to make the trek back into town.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
