[se] are we all caged in?

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Lena laughed a little, tracking the movements of both the insect and the ursur, though the former seemed innocent and carefree, and the latter far more tired and fatigued. “They are lovely,” she hummed another little tune, changing it to something whimsical, before kneeling and crouching before the bear. With treat and medicine in hand, and without the slightest bit of fear, she turned her palm over, flat and offering, to the creature.

She watched as its eyes lifted a little, rumbling out of the deep, healing slumber, for more provisions. “Here you are, dear,” she murmured, soft and quiet, as its nose twitched and the notion of food seemed readily apparent. In half a moment, the treat and medicine were gone, and the Caretaker’s fingers still intact, unaware of Noah’s concern or worry.

Brushing off her hands, she kneeled beside her basket, rifling through its contents again – only lifting her gaze from the task when the man answered her question with a very short statement. It only brought on more of those foundational spouts and sprouts of curiosity, arching her brow delicately. “Oh? Are congratulations in order?” For Vi didn’t do that for just anyone – last she recalled was Amalia, and the assortment of other demigods coming and going.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm