choir practice (open)

Lily sing me a song of a lass that is gone Snow sucks. The cold also fucking sucks. Winter Deepfrost is the absolute worst, and Lily has always hated when the temperatures begin to drop. She’s just a warm weather kind of gal, more at ease sweating and half-naked than shivering and bundled up. But the work must be done, and she’s sure that many will confirm this is probably the best way she can help prepare for the week-long torture session. Today, however, she isn’t the only one trying to lure the fancy reindeer in. In the pauses between her words, she can hear the briefest echoes of something - someoneone else, though she can’t see him yet. “Ye gales, that gently wave the sea And please the canny boat-man Bear me from hence or bring to me My brave and bonny Scot-man.” Maybe it’s Lily. Maybe it’s that Oliver isn’t singing loud enough, but sure enough, as the redhead comes through the woods the luxere begin to come out of ‘hiding’ (though how one can hide deer with glowing antlers, she’ll never know). They follow her like the children followed the Pied Piper - eagerly, and without reservation. They remember this one. She is good. merry of soul, she sailed on a day over the sea to Skye