Some days the village is deserted. There are no sounds coming from the keep. Maybe the falling tree doesn’t make a sound if there’s no one to hear. But it will have an effect on the forest anyway, an effect that will ripple out through time and space. There need be no other validation. Choices I make will ripple out through other worlds and other times and carry down through generations. Though I be only Small Folk, therein lies my power.
Wren in the Tavern~
[13:28] Wren Alcyone looks around the empty tavern and enjoys her meal, humming to herself. “I might as well pretend that I’m the Queen here,” she laughs as she drinks more ale. “I can do what I want at this moment.”
[13:32] Wren Alcyone sings to herself. “I’m the Queen….I’m the Queen….I’m the Queen.” She laughs and helps herself to more Arbor Red and delicious roast boar with mushrooms and field greens.
[13:36] Wren Alcyone dances around the porch of the tavern, not a care in the world. She lets the moment soak into her very being.
((And hopes her French Manicure is overlooked.))