[ Today seems like another day for one of his more mournful compositions, as he sits outside their house, which has seen better days since the dragons’ attack. But at her approach, he stands up, letting his music peter out before he politely sets that harp aside. Wouldn’t do to stop the music so abruptly in the presence of company—it feels rude, somehow.
Still he reaches out, offering his hand to her—no need to be so closed off now, Pyra! You’ve been through worse shit together!
In fact… ]
With you here, Pyra, I am lonely no longer. To what do I owe this pleasure?
no subject
Still he reaches out, offering his hand to her—no need to be so closed off now, Pyra! You’ve been through worse shit together!
In fact… ]
With you here, Pyra, I am lonely no longer. To what do I owe this pleasure?