Lena
and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm
and sore must be the storm
Another hum persisted, something melodic, as they strolled past the gardens and towards the wyrms’ enclosure. “I’ll warn you, they tend to be very mischievous,” not that she could say much, considering her own companion. “And they also like shiny things,” which meant anything of such note upon Sohalia’s person would be subject to perusal, and attempts to steal.
Sliding the gate open, she allowed the fellow Attuned in, before going through the same motions as before, checking water, and then going through food. The wyrms themselves were overhead, in their puffy, ivory forms, slowly descending from their higher vantage point – watching below with a sort of caution befitting a crow or raven, heads tilting, noses twitching. Glancing over her shoulder, the Caretaker began peeling apart the buckets of pellets and grain. “Do you want to help put some of these out?”
Sliding the gate open, she allowed the fellow Attuned in, before going through the same motions as before, checking water, and then going through food. The wyrms themselves were overhead, in their puffy, ivory forms, slowly descending from their higher vantage point – watching below with a sort of caution befitting a crow or raven, heads tilting, noses twitching. Glancing over her shoulder, the Caretaker began peeling apart the buckets of pellets and grain. “Do you want to help put some of these out?”
that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm
that kept so many warm
