("Will you let me listen to your music someday?")
The first time, he'd been the brave, blood stained warrior who risked his life to save the caravan during her trip back to Gridania.
The second time, he'd been a peaceful, harmless nature lover she found in the forest, near the river.
The third time, he would be a gentle bard, a boy whose hands would rather not know of destruction for as long as the tune played.
His name was Andre; in Clover's mind, a warrior who knew many kinds of sounds, from the most painful to the most beautiful, being the latter the only ones he seemed to seek and embrace. His music could be heard from the distance, perfectly mixed together with the birds and the flow of water, as if it was a part of nature itself. She walked slowly in direction to the tree by the river, where he'd promised to play his lute. And he did.
Clover didn't speak, didn't interrupt him. Couldn't interrupt him. Silently, she simply sat down against the other side of the tree and closed her eyes, losing herself to the soothing melody. It felt like listening to a kind voice, one which wanted to share many stories with her.
The sensation didn't last long, however, for her thoughts were interrupted by a pang of guilt. This gentle music... it wasn't the Andre she met in the path to Gridania. It troubled her.
The first time, he'd been the brave, blood stained warrior who risked his life to save the caravan during her trip back to Gridania.
The second time, he'd been a peaceful, harmless nature lover she found in the forest, near the river.
The third time, he would be a gentle bard, a boy whose hands would rather not know of destruction for as long as the tune played.
His name was Andre; in Clover's mind, a warrior who knew many kinds of sounds, from the most painful to the most beautiful, being the latter the only ones he seemed to seek and embrace. His music could be heard from the distance, perfectly mixed together with the birds and the flow of water, as if it was a part of nature itself. She walked slowly in direction to the tree by the river, where he'd promised to play his lute. And he did.
Clover didn't speak, didn't interrupt him. Couldn't interrupt him. Silently, she simply sat down against the other side of the tree and closed her eyes, losing herself to the soothing melody. It felt like listening to a kind voice, one which wanted to share many stories with her.
The sensation didn't last long, however, for her thoughts were interrupted by a pang of guilt. This gentle music... it wasn't the Andre she met in the path to Gridania. It troubled her.
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Clover Blake (Hyur) /Â K'mih Yohko (Miqo'te)
