Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Lena would’ve been content to settle and watch the clouds roll by – or the corresponding wyrms, wriggling amidst the ethers, earth, and rock. But she was witness to a duel along the road as well – brows furrowed, contemplating an entire host of things in her mind – the parameters of it all, though given the beck and call to one another it seemed to be a friendly jest. Not the sort where daggers were poised and raised, nor hackles freely given, or threats unfurled, like animals yearned to proclaim.
It seemed merely to practice.
She’d tried once, with Helen, and hadn’t found herself gaining any traction in those regards. Too soft, maybe, or too inexperienced. So instead she hovered on the edge of the crowd, in case anyone needed assistance when they were done.
It seemed merely to practice.
She’d tried once, with Helen, and hadn’t found herself gaining any traction in those regards. Too soft, maybe, or too inexperienced. So instead she hovered on the edge of the crowd, in case anyone needed assistance when they were done.
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
