Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
“If you’d like,” and the Caretaker offered several bundles of herbs and balms, already overflowing from her basket. Strolling alongside the youth, she jutted her jawline towards the shrine as they made their way around – and from a slight distance and behind curlicues of ferns and blossoms, Sohalia would be able to see the pedestal. The rush of water, the hark of wildflowers, the spread of seasonal majesty, serenaded and surrounded in equal measure, and it ensured Lena still wore a smile on her face. “To all the Old Gods,” she uttered, with some sentiment of pride.
Permitting the younger Attuned a moment, especially if she wanted a moment, she paused in her stride, before tilting her head vaguely, uncertain if she’d mentioned it before. “Do you have a preferred herald?”
Permitting the younger Attuned a moment, especially if she wanted a moment, she paused in her stride, before tilting her head vaguely, uncertain if she’d mentioned it before. “Do you have a preferred herald?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
