Date: 2006-06-18 05:09 am (UTC)
The bird cupped in Dickon's hand chirps feebly again, and he strokes its feathers gently with one finger.

"There, now," he says gently, not knowing what else to do. "There, now, it's just a storm. A bad one, sure an' certain, but even bad storms can' last forever."
It's the storm, not you
"'Twill be all right soon enough, tha'll see."
That's bound to blow away
He's not certain if it's the bird or Mary he's speaking to, but perhaps that doesn't matter.
This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

white_flowers: (Default)
Blodwen Rowlands

July 2010

S M T W T F S
    123
45678910
11121314151617
181920 21222324
25262728293031

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 22nd, 2025 11:47 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios