[how like the child he truly is... Simmaeri finds it more endearing than offensive, herself, knowing his manner a hundred times over. she knew ways to reach his like.
she sang once more. airier, more carefree than before. a sweet song filled with the honey of summer, of warm sun and crisp grass underfoot. a song for a shedding of troubles, of breathing out hostility.
no subject
she sang once more. airier, more carefree than before. a sweet song filled with the honey of summer, of warm sun and crisp grass underfoot. a song for a shedding of troubles, of breathing out hostility.
a short reprise from discontent.]