The little two-person table was a simple but inspired convenience, really, painted in a rich chestnut brown, with its two matching seats, to match the earthen hues of the rest of the Carline Canopy; its position just away from the airship ticketers, down in the boarding area, ensured that while it would seldom be surrounded by a throng of drunkards, that anyone seated there would see plenty of people coming and going.
No airships were due in for at least half a bell, though, which well-enough suited the sizeable Hyur, whose well-worn leather boots were propped up on the table. His personalized lute was propped high, and was producing a slow-tempo, high pitch melody throughout the large room, whether to the delight or derision of the workers. Nathan was as alone as he really ever was, and for once, he wasn't bothered by it, and his voice was deep but muted in volume.
"Feel the aether where she walks, the lady in white so beautiful...
A lovely and engaging femme, blinding your eyes with skin so white...
See her sashay through fog and wind, leaving a trace of grace in her wake
And even a hurricane wouldn't dare to dishevel her hair
You can see the flowers in rows, bending to feel a passing touch
And to learn perhaps for themselves how she draws us in so much..."
Something moved in his peripheral vision, and he glanced up in time to see a pair of pretty feline eyes settling across the table from him. The lute was stilled instantly.
"Never can be truly alone, hm? Didn't see you there, but since you went to all the trouble to come over, stay awhile. Enjoying the playing, were you?"
He caught a hint of a flicking tail, but there was no other reaction from his sudden companion.
"You're trying to tell me that the old resolve is breaking, aren't you? Look, I went to the ball - isn't that what a bard ought to do, go where the people are, watch the great dance of eyes and voices and hands, see the sway and fray of fancy dress, feel the buzz like a warm blanket? That's what I should be doing."
His companion simply offered a tilted head.
"Hey, it was a hell of a time! Okay, okay, I did leave some of those housemates to themselves. You think it's easy trying to get to know those kind of people, when I can sense what's going on behind their eyeballs, and I realize that the only thing I've got in common with pretty much all of them is the occasional headache and sometimes breathing the same air? Hells, how do you talk to a band like that, when they think you make no real sense, but they make a vagrant, punchy musician seem like a well-adjusted and upstanding member of the community...all right, all right. I'll try to be nicer, but I'm not making any promises."
The eyes blinked, perhaps expectantly.
"Yeah, well, I did what I did, and I don't regret it... maybe, yeah, I wonder what would have happened if I stayed; there was that courtesan with the melodious voice all by her lonesome behind that fan, and that piratical little performer shook the room like the pillars of heaven themselves were rocking - those were some hips - and the little witch-kitty is quite the looker in baby-blue. I really need to bite down and get myself into these gigs... but that's not what you want to hear, is it? You think I'm reneging on my promise to myself. I know you do."
The head across the table leaned in more closely, eyeing the bard, and then the lute, in turn.
He sighed. "This isn't some kind of thing like a military oath or some quest for the gods here. I know what I used to have, and that's what I wanted, and I'd walk right away from those blasted sheep over and over and over if those gods kept putting me back there, and no, I don't take that kind of a hint, because the ones who can't do anything but give hints want to sit back against the wall while everyone else plays and does the dance, and then they want to fall moping on their couches and wail about why the world ignores them. I left, all right? I left the flock, and I left the party, and I will tell you here and now that what I found on the dock was a wonderful thing, and I don't regret that... I don't. I don't know how long I can do duets, but I don't regret it, so no need to harp about it, you little minx."
Four fuzzy paws crept across the table, and the little coeurl kitten, all purrs and fluff, nuzzled his hand. He reached up to scratch it between the ears, and it reared up, batting the hand just before setting down to submit to the affection.
"All right, you little beast. Now, since you've been such a fair and nonjudgmental companion, I'll play you one, on the house."
He leaned back in the chair, leaving the kitten to sit on the table before him, tail twitching. The lute found its place again, and he started to strum it.
"I left the show 'bout half past ten, those hips o' yours done did me in
So take me on home, show me the way home,
Let's wander, pretty lady, show me around tonight.
The eyes were wanderin' wild and free, but you gave that look and it was over for me..
So take me to the bower, show me that bower
Let's wander, pretty lady, let me pick that flower tonight..."
No airships were due in for at least half a bell, though, which well-enough suited the sizeable Hyur, whose well-worn leather boots were propped up on the table. His personalized lute was propped high, and was producing a slow-tempo, high pitch melody throughout the large room, whether to the delight or derision of the workers. Nathan was as alone as he really ever was, and for once, he wasn't bothered by it, and his voice was deep but muted in volume.
"Feel the aether where she walks, the lady in white so beautiful...
A lovely and engaging femme, blinding your eyes with skin so white...
See her sashay through fog and wind, leaving a trace of grace in her wake
And even a hurricane wouldn't dare to dishevel her hair
You can see the flowers in rows, bending to feel a passing touch
And to learn perhaps for themselves how she draws us in so much..."
Something moved in his peripheral vision, and he glanced up in time to see a pair of pretty feline eyes settling across the table from him. The lute was stilled instantly.
"Never can be truly alone, hm? Didn't see you there, but since you went to all the trouble to come over, stay awhile. Enjoying the playing, were you?"
He caught a hint of a flicking tail, but there was no other reaction from his sudden companion.
"You're trying to tell me that the old resolve is breaking, aren't you? Look, I went to the ball - isn't that what a bard ought to do, go where the people are, watch the great dance of eyes and voices and hands, see the sway and fray of fancy dress, feel the buzz like a warm blanket? That's what I should be doing."
His companion simply offered a tilted head.
"Hey, it was a hell of a time! Okay, okay, I did leave some of those housemates to themselves. You think it's easy trying to get to know those kind of people, when I can sense what's going on behind their eyeballs, and I realize that the only thing I've got in common with pretty much all of them is the occasional headache and sometimes breathing the same air? Hells, how do you talk to a band like that, when they think you make no real sense, but they make a vagrant, punchy musician seem like a well-adjusted and upstanding member of the community...all right, all right. I'll try to be nicer, but I'm not making any promises."
The eyes blinked, perhaps expectantly.
"Yeah, well, I did what I did, and I don't regret it... maybe, yeah, I wonder what would have happened if I stayed; there was that courtesan with the melodious voice all by her lonesome behind that fan, and that piratical little performer shook the room like the pillars of heaven themselves were rocking - those were some hips - and the little witch-kitty is quite the looker in baby-blue. I really need to bite down and get myself into these gigs... but that's not what you want to hear, is it? You think I'm reneging on my promise to myself. I know you do."
The head across the table leaned in more closely, eyeing the bard, and then the lute, in turn.
He sighed. "This isn't some kind of thing like a military oath or some quest for the gods here. I know what I used to have, and that's what I wanted, and I'd walk right away from those blasted sheep over and over and over if those gods kept putting me back there, and no, I don't take that kind of a hint, because the ones who can't do anything but give hints want to sit back against the wall while everyone else plays and does the dance, and then they want to fall moping on their couches and wail about why the world ignores them. I left, all right? I left the flock, and I left the party, and I will tell you here and now that what I found on the dock was a wonderful thing, and I don't regret that... I don't. I don't know how long I can do duets, but I don't regret it, so no need to harp about it, you little minx."
Four fuzzy paws crept across the table, and the little coeurl kitten, all purrs and fluff, nuzzled his hand. He reached up to scratch it between the ears, and it reared up, batting the hand just before setting down to submit to the affection.
"All right, you little beast. Now, since you've been such a fair and nonjudgmental companion, I'll play you one, on the house."
He leaned back in the chair, leaving the kitten to sit on the table before him, tail twitching. The lute found its place again, and he started to strum it.
"I left the show 'bout half past ten, those hips o' yours done did me in
So take me on home, show me the way home,
Let's wander, pretty lady, show me around tonight.
The eyes were wanderin' wild and free, but you gave that look and it was over for me..
So take me to the bower, show me that bower
Let's wander, pretty lady, let me pick that flower tonight..."
"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."
![[Image: 3610850.jpg]](http://assets-cloud.enjin.com/users/1266293/pics/original/3610850.jpg)
