Her smile was met with his own and he inclined his head in greeting, though he did not stop the humming music of his song. He paced with unhurried serenity across the young grass to join her in front of the fire, content to absorb its warmth as they stood shoulder to shoulder - or shoulder to ribs, at least - in the calm heart of the hedgemaze. Unlike the Ancient he kept his hands at his sides rather than trying to dip them into the fire, but he watched the dance of flames with the quiet fascination that fire had always held for him since he had been a Mer.
As Thal's voice faded so did his own. He followed her lead and let his humming die into a silence a few notes before hers, so that the Ancient's voice was the last to linger, closing the song she had begun. He was content to simply enjoy her company in quiet for a while, but her question drew his eyes down to her, soft and thoughtful as he heard the yearning beneath the casual question.
"Yes." He tilted his head at her, a lilt of wry humor in twitch of his lips, unusually self-deprecating in the confident king. "Though I leave the singing to my sister." He closed his eyes, inclining his head in acquiescence, however, and searched his memory. "Mer songs are meant to be sung underwater. The sound is... different, there. And our language is not meant for air. But--"
He began to hum again, softly at first but with a steady rumble as he shared the notes of one of the lullabies that his father had sung for his children in decades past.
As Thal's voice faded so did his own. He followed her lead and let his humming die into a silence a few notes before hers, so that the Ancient's voice was the last to linger, closing the song she had begun. He was content to simply enjoy her company in quiet for a while, but her question drew his eyes down to her, soft and thoughtful as he heard the yearning beneath the casual question.
"Yes." He tilted his head at her, a lilt of wry humor in twitch of his lips, unusually self-deprecating in the confident king. "Though I leave the singing to my sister." He closed his eyes, inclining his head in acquiescence, however, and searched his memory. "Mer songs are meant to be sung underwater. The sound is... different, there. And our language is not meant for air. But--"
He began to hum again, softly at first but with a steady rumble as he shared the notes of one of the lullabies that his father had sung for his children in decades past.
