Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Not one to presume, the youth nodded, studying the shell in her hand for a moment more before raising her eyes back to the merman. “Sure,” gaze wandering back to the kiosks, the aromas and perfumes of the market glossing over the purpose of her visit here again, before LongNight pressed her back into the confines of stone and Celestine gardens. “I was hoping…,” and she drifted off, as if the notions were foolish, and she didn’t really want them aired. “To snag something for an individual I don’t really care for. An extension of peace and goodwill, I suppose,” shrugging her shoulders, lacking an explanation for it.
Besides that strange intonation of bitterness residing behind her teeth; a rancor she’d yet to displace. Her head tilted vaguely, fingers clutching over the artifact again. “Do you have any suggestions?”
Besides that strange intonation of bitterness residing behind her teeth; a rancor she’d yet to displace. Her head tilted vaguely, fingers clutching over the artifact again. “Do you have any suggestions?”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
