[SE] Flowersong Birdbirth

He wasn't the most pious man most of the time, but when he realized that the last time he'd made offerings to the seasonal deities had been before the War, Talyson figured he could make a small detour on his next courier run to Stormbreak.

The Peregrine was ground-anchored at the edge of the Oerwoud, out of reach of the grasping vines and potentially hungry trees. Wearing only trousers and a sleeveless shirt over his Vest, Tal had slipped into the jungle with Boreal immediately taking to the branches to trot along broad limbs or glide from branch-to-branch above him. He had a thick leather flask in one hand and the other was raised to ward off too-friendly vines as he poked around for a place to make his offering.

"Petunia?" he called out, looking for something else as well. "Petunia, are you here?"

Lena

Lena

hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul

Talyson wasn’t the only one in this midst, and though Lena raised her head from her bowed position before the offering sanction, she wasn’t Petunia. Not answering, and shrugging her shoulders at her wayward snowball companion, she persisted in snagging the water from her bag. A nice canteen, not too fanciful, but enough to do the job, with the liquid inside snagged from one of the surrounding streams – enough to quench the thirst of any springtime deity, she hoped.

But Mittens had a hankering too, for mischief and devilry.

Before the Caretaker could even snag the little beast, it was off, hastening towards the voice. “Oh, don’t!” She whispered, fiendishly stalking after it, snagging her canteen and making sure it stayed in her grasp. In rapid time, it beelined for the stranger (though, not really) in the midst, hurtling and intending to make use of its tangible form to smack him with a ferocious force of snow.

and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all