catch a falling star and put it in your pocket; Kensa

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

Hope is a great sweet and full feeling, one that she has been carrying around with her for days always edged with a little apprehension. Now that feeling flares to life again but the apprehension has died out of it. Kensa’s eyes are full of the sight of the girl turning towards her, of her earnest surprise and curiosity. They meet and breathe one another in for the first. Fairies watch from deeper within the den, grim and contented but Kensa has forgotten them and they fade into the trees and earth like they were never there at all.

“My name is Kensa. What’s yours?” There is a too long pause, and she adds very gently, genuinely… “I’d very much like to know.” She would like so much more than that. She knows the girl is here because someone left her behind, because that is the purpose of this place. Its other purpose is one that Kensa had not before considered taking part in (though for no other reason than it had failed to occur to her) but of course she is drawn here at the most perfect time.

Whether the girls reply comes slowly or quickly Kensa is not inclined to let silence linger too long. She drags her eyes away from the girl to look slowly around the quiet den. It's a pretty place, softened and sheltered in comparison to the rest of Beqanna. “Do you like it here?” She asks the child, meanwhile wondering if she would prefer Hyaline, not as safe or sheltered but miraculously beautiful and hopefully to be full again with youngsters one day soon.

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Astarielle]