Work Text:
Prologue
The wind carries too many secrets to be considered something you can trust.
And yet, everyone whispers their secrets into the wind like it plans to keep them.
Lenora knows better. Lenora knows better than to trust something that is the loudest in a room full of silence. Most people do, except when it comes to the wind apparently.
Nobody would ever trust a blabbermouth or their ex's new girlfriend or the woman who tries to outshine the bride.
Those people know too much about too many and only plan to let more know. They could not keep their mouths shut if a gun was pressed to their head and a knife to their throat.
But the wind is a cheeky one. It continues to blab even when a man raises a gun to the sky. It continues to drone on even when a knife is sliced through the air. Maybe the wind does not know any better; or maybe it does, and just doesn't care to listen, like the blabbermouths.
The wind makes the summer days hotter and the winter days colder on purpose to make the people complain; and yet they continue to trust it, to follow it blindly like a dog with a bone.
It seems we, as humans, are all blabbermouths, no matter how quiet we may seem to the others.