A/N: A quick Rin POV poem.
Wishful thinking.
Maybe that's all it is.
But still, she feels a want,
even a need
to exercise her ability.
Practice.
Do some good with it,
instead of the horror
so many others have done.
So she roots herself to the ground,
spreads her leaves,
talks.
Enna passes by;
a quick hello.
Finn brushes into her;
she asks how the children are doing.
If she can see them sometime.
"Soon," he promises.
"Soon," she whispers with a smile. "Soon."
