CHULANE
He likes that she rambles, that she lets her words run away with her a bit. He was guilty of such things himself, on topics he was passionate about - usually farming or animal or medicine talk, though since coming here he was prone to ramble about Attuning too. He chuckles at the jab about being obvious because, well, it was true - though he had picked up more of a local wardrobe, and figured out the trading/bartering system that was used in place of currency, his accent still outed him as an Outlander.
Hell, even on Earth his accent had done that when he was travelling overseas.
Nodding his head in anticipation of the beginning of her tune, he found himself moving his fingers in line with notes that were strung from her skilled hands, bouncing slightly as the melody willed it. He felt his emotions shift with the swell, rising higher, some unidentified tension building within him - and then the music shifted, and he let the breath he was holding release with it, tapping his toes along with the jig, letting the story the music wove bring a soft smile to his mouth.
When it eventually fades, he finds himself greedily wanting more - it had been so long since he had heard any kind of music, outside of workmen humming or his own extremely poor renditions of songs from his homeworld. "Too short," he said in immediate response to her question, smiling good-naturedly as he held his hands open before her to assure her didn't mean his criticism in a harsh way. "No, for real, I could happily lose myself to it all night long."
Hell, even on Earth his accent had done that when he was travelling overseas.
Nodding his head in anticipation of the beginning of her tune, he found himself moving his fingers in line with notes that were strung from her skilled hands, bouncing slightly as the melody willed it. He felt his emotions shift with the swell, rising higher, some unidentified tension building within him - and then the music shifted, and he let the breath he was holding release with it, tapping his toes along with the jig, letting the story the music wove bring a soft smile to his mouth.
When it eventually fades, he finds himself greedily wanting more - it had been so long since he had heard any kind of music, outside of workmen humming or his own extremely poor renditions of songs from his homeworld. "Too short," he said in immediate response to her question, smiling good-naturedly as he held his hands open before her to assure her didn't mean his criticism in a harsh way. "No, for real, I could happily lose myself to it all night long."
it is better to know some of the questions
than all of the answers
than all of the answers
