Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
“Oh,” she mentioned, as if the possibility were a surprise. It made sense that they would frequent the Climb, given the proximity of heat, and the springs – perhaps this place was an indulgence for them, like Torchline was for so many. “That makes sense,” and she returned his grin, a little softer, still feeling sheepish and ignorant. “Were they nice?”
Only when the Sentinel ceased movement did Lena do the same, peering around his form as he pointed out the ruby proportions in the wall. “I did!” With a chirp and a hum, she snagged at the cloth tucked around her basket, unveiling a small set of tools. She’d figured if worse came to worse, she could’ve dug around with her fox claws and given it an attempt there. Then she began picking away with her tiny portions, inclining around the top first.
Only when the Sentinel ceased movement did Lena do the same, peering around his form as he pointed out the ruby proportions in the wall. “I did!” With a chirp and a hum, she snagged at the cloth tucked around her basket, unveiling a small set of tools. She’d figured if worse came to worse, she could’ve dug around with her fox claws and given it an attempt there. Then she began picking away with her tiny portions, inclining around the top first.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
