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 There were probably more quandaries circling Tyra’s mind, quelling, brewing, building below the surface of her apprehensive features, but the trust and faith she put within Lena would not be disregarded or forgotten. The nymph’s benedictions and convictions were never capricious, fanciful things, composed by lithe strings and cut by nefarious threads; they remained solid, resolute, steadfast and stalwart, tucked into her heart, nestled in the devotion to her companions, her loyalty, her kingdom. She had no intentions of letting Tyra slip into the veneer and artifice of cruelty, or the shambles and shackles of sinister bombardments – and though her world would be what she carved into it, how she labored, where she pinpointed her goals and which path she wandered upon – the sylph had no qualms about steering her away from the beacons and beckoning of avaricious plumes. If the silver could muster diligence, if she could dig deep within her wounded walls and pluck along the carillon calls of bravery, ambition, aspirations, and courage, Lena was certain she’d be capable of fending off the intricacies of immorality. Upon the argent’s acceptance, her smile ignited, enlightened, a brightened, radiant glow pervading the shadows and the gloom, beneficent and luminescent. The singsong decibels of her tone pulsed in a vibrant tune, grand, hopeful, valorous. “Follow me!” Pixie and kitsune turned, moving into an elegant pace, a light, airy stride, creating a guiding hand to share and convey the delights of a newfound home to a stranger locked in weariness. Whether the world would be too cruel, peace too shattered, repose and serenity too far away, remained to be seen, but Tyra needed find her strength, her determination, her perseverance along the way, or be devoured in the midst of all its fallacies. Lena</style> |
