After the first time the music rang out across the Stormcrest Crossroads... The song was heard time and again, with the same old man plucking the strings of lute or guitar...
But never with the passion of the first time.
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//Pyyran: Perform Check: 20 + 8 = 28//
Pyyran: **Quietly, he begins to play in earnest... A dark melody in a minor key, echoing the waning daylight...*
Hawklen Ancalimë: **sings softly* Get up and free yourself, from yourself
//Hawklen Ancalimë: Perform Check: 2 + -1 = 1//
Kinai Ancalimë: *cough*
Pyyran: **The music flows out from the lute, Pyyran's fingers rolling across the strings with an ease born in passion, as the song takes shape... The music slides along, over Hawklen's voice, the melody prickling at old memories...*
Kinai Ancalimë: **she just takes hawk's hand and presses it against her cheek**
Hawklen Ancalimë: *smiles and kisses the top of her head*
Pyyran: **It breaks into a moving force, a mournful celebration of days past... A ghostly reminder of the days ahead, darker and colder.*
Pyyran: **Time moves as the music shifts, chilling from the warm tones of yesterday, the minor key striking odd chords in the mind and heart; dissonance... Slowly taking shape.*
Hawklen Ancalimë: *hums leaning against her*
Pyyran: **The music, ringing out of the lute as if it were animated, not by the old man holding it, but by the emotions deep within him, rolls easily through and over the other sounds in the crossroads, absorbing them and making them, too, a part of itself...*
Pyyran: **Mirroring the dark sky, the warm fire, and the swiftly shrinking unknown.*
Pyyran: **There is no glorious, hopeful finish to the song... Simply the last pattern, repeating itself until it fades away.*
Hawklen Ancalimë: *sighs a bit* Make sure you are safe love..
Kinai Ancalimë: I'm not?
Hawklen Ancalimë: Helping in impossible situations. Things like that..
Hawklen Ancalimë: **nods to pyyran's playing*
Pyyran: **After a long moment, Pyyran opens his slate-grey, aged eyes to stare into the fire... The ash-coloured orbs brimmed with unshed tears that remain unshed.*
Hawklen Ancalimë: *hums a bit*
//Hawklen Ancalimë: Perform Check: 11 + -1 = 10//
Kinai Ancalimë: That's better, dear.
Pyyran: **The old man gives the faintest of smiles at Hawklen's humming, before sliding the lute back around to hang at his back, taking up his fishing pole and lantern.*
Pyyran: I think, for now... I'm going to go home.
Kinai Ancalimë: **looks at the fishing pole**
Hawklen Ancalimë: **nods* Take care Gramps.
Pyyran: **He smiles to Kinai, the soft expression warm.* Luck to you... **He nods to Hawklen.* And you.
