Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
The Caretaker managed a light laugh at not only the instant lapping of treats, but the subsequent call for belly rubs. Stretching and reaching out, she indulged the wolf with some scratches along her fur, and didn’t cease when the bonded approached – glancing upward for half a moment to register the man. “Oh, not at all. Don’t worry about it.” She grabbed at a few more morsels in her pocket, leaving them along the sand for the canine to find, before brushing off her hands.
Intending to return to her notes, she hadn’t imagined they’d stay – considered the moment as a passing through semblance. So only thereafter did she study the stranger, not recognizing them at all (a given, perhaps, considering how often she got out of Stormbreak and with more recent disasters). “She seems very sweet. You must be very fond of her,” and she smiled – extending her hand out in a warm gesture and introduction. “I’m Lena. Who are you?”
Intending to return to her notes, she hadn’t imagined they’d stay – considered the moment as a passing through semblance. So only thereafter did she study the stranger, not recognizing them at all (a given, perhaps, considering how often she got out of Stormbreak and with more recent disasters). “She seems very sweet. You must be very fond of her,” and she smiled – extending her hand out in a warm gesture and introduction. “I’m Lena. Who are you?”
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
