Lake Rodney Sailor Song

What a plight the heart is.

In her more generous moments, Eset would wonder that all old loves were still there; impervious and unaltered. What a privilege it is to wonder; to burn with a passion that is returned– if only for a moment. She listens to Machiavelli’s woes and finds herself smiling.

“I’m afraid I’m hardly fit to offer advice. But– I think that you are brave. To love at all.” Eset paddles her paws beneath the surface, sailing out into the dark lake.

When had they become friends? It happened so gradually she didn’t notice it– and here she was speaking intimately in ways she rarely could.

“You know Machi– you do not have to be a fellahin. You are familiar with plants, and quite good with them. You could be a sesh. When we return, I wish for you to choose your calling.”