Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
The Caretaker had been in King’s End anyway, with a dash of silliness, curiosity, and some manner of scholarly insights, had meandered towards the subject matter at hand. She couldn’t recall Stormbreak citizens being overly fond of snowball fights – some far too serious, some far too consumed by other tasks, and some far too distracted by endeavors for the beyond. Lena probably should’ve been in at least the latter two, but she wasn’t an individual to waste an opportunity either.
She followed the whispers and topic at hand, lingering along the edges of the Barrows – amidst the throngs of hills and graves, hand over her eyes to shield them, and maybe, catch sight of where the mounds of snow were coming from.
She followed the whispers and topic at hand, lingering along the edges of the Barrows – amidst the throngs of hills and graves, hand over her eyes to shield them, and maybe, catch sight of where the mounds of snow were coming from.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
