Lena
hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul
that perches in the soul
The Dragoon and dragon companion both executed matching disgruntled expressions, but Lena waved them off as the other combatant approached; leaving them to glare, but leave to their own posts. The Caretaker regained her standing position, though still glancing a bit cautiously at the approaching woman. Maybe expecting another moment where she’d have to jump and launch out of the way.
Wiping her hands of the salve on a towel from her basket, the youth’s brows rose at the comment. “Oh, I care for the animals at the Celestine,” by way of an explanation. “One has to move fast to avoid tails, teeth, and claws,” and she shrugged, as if this was a normal, everyday occurrence; fast reflexes, in-tune, innate senses. Maybe some of it came from her Attuned proportions. “Do you often hack off the limbs of your targets?” The light, airy tones making made partially in jest, and some modicum of curiosity.
Wiping her hands of the salve on a towel from her basket, the youth’s brows rose at the comment. “Oh, I care for the animals at the Celestine,” by way of an explanation. “One has to move fast to avoid tails, teeth, and claws,” and she shrugged, as if this was a normal, everyday occurrence; fast reflexes, in-tune, innate senses. Maybe some of it came from her Attuned proportions. “Do you often hack off the limbs of your targets?” The light, airy tones making made partially in jest, and some modicum of curiosity.
and sings the tune without the words
and never stops at all
and never stops at all
