#etharia

"Listen to you. Are you?” he asks, because there: the songs they’re housing shiver like bells. And he supposes, even if he weren’t so aching, head whirring in those sea-swell circles, that he’d hear it, still, that song like sunlight after snowy months. Mending. Sweet. “Like meadows. Like listening to rain on the flowers and leaves, the heal from winter. Cold. It’s warm.” Marigolds, daffodils... Cường blinks. “I wonder if it’ll heal me, too.”

The chosen three @ Mithra Tenebris