Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
Out of habit, the Caretaker began scratching the top of the dragon’s head with her free hand, beginning another rich hum under her breath as the calm washed back over her. Mittens might have been her polar opposite, with ridiculous antics, but when it wanted, the young companion could simply mold back into the terrain. “It’s an abominable snowball. They’re not out very often.” She could imagine the rest of the world picked them off one by one, or they existed out of spite.
Her head tilted, releasing Boreal from the scritches, allowing her to slip another finger around Mittens and reaffirm the grasp before turning. “Back this way I believe,” and she sauntered along the path, tending to the branches and vines slung low, maneuvering them easily and efficiently. "Did you find whomever you were looking for?"
Her head tilted, releasing Boreal from the scritches, allowing her to slip another finger around Mittens and reaffirm the grasp before turning. “Back this way I believe,” and she sauntered along the path, tending to the branches and vines slung low, maneuvering them easily and efficiently. "Did you find whomever you were looking for?"
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
