Hester
Tight hold on that hope
The first few notes ring out, early in the night, below the slight chatter in the bar, then stop. The girl hums, and fiddles with the tuning of her fiddle, and tries again.
The next few notes start slow, a mournful dirge, for a people who have lost much, for people who are neighbours and people who are visitors to her home. She’s not trying to inspire sorrow though, she’s trying to inspire hope, and her fingers move over the frets of her fiddle, the tempo rising into a drinking song, familiar enough in Halo that people could sing along, if they so chose.
Hester plays a handful of songs, each one cheerier than the last, trying to stoke to mood of the bar into something bright, despite the cold outside and recent events. The end of her songs comes up so quickly it seems to surprise her, and she bows out of sheer force of habit, a dozen practices and being exactly this way, though she hopes the chances of someone else bringing her a drink, or even better, a compliment on her playing, are higher in a room of strangers than they are with her parents.
The next few notes start slow, a mournful dirge, for a people who have lost much, for people who are neighbours and people who are visitors to her home. She’s not trying to inspire sorrow though, she’s trying to inspire hope, and her fingers move over the frets of her fiddle, the tempo rising into a drinking song, familiar enough in Halo that people could sing along, if they so chose.
Hester plays a handful of songs, each one cheerier than the last, trying to stoke to mood of the bar into something bright, despite the cold outside and recent events. The end of her songs comes up so quickly it seems to surprise her, and she bows out of sheer force of habit, a dozen practices and being exactly this way, though she hopes the chances of someone else bringing her a drink, or even better, a compliment on her playing, are higher in a room of strangers than they are with her parents.
Sometimes it could seem so cold
Do what you gotta do to cope
