“Prim?” I say pleadingly. I hear her but can’t see her. Her next wail rings out, clear as a bell, and there’s no mistaking the source. It’s coming from the mouth of a small, crested black bird perched on a branch about ten feet over my head. And then I understand.
It’s a jabberjay.
Tell me you finally tasted freedom.
Letter from Hades to Persephone, Clementine von Radics
so fair a maiden | an instrumental mix for those sweet-natured princesses in the books
And all the troubadours shall sing:
"O! But never can there be another,
That can match this princess’ good heart!”
I want you to know that I’m here for you, if you ever want to talk, or… anything.