tell me Atlas what is heavier?
the world or its peoples hearts?
the world or its peoples hearts?
He's not expecting company, at least nothing more than his thoughts and the echoing of chords against the walls of the lighthouse. The acoustics are great, and he has no qualms with enjoying it when there's nobody around to disturb. Or at least so he thinks, startling hard when a voice suddenly cuts through his humming, fingers curling around the chords and the neck of the guitar in instinctive preparation to turn the instrument into a weapon. He relaxes only slightly when it's revealed to be Sunjata, heart still hammering in his breast and body still primed for motion and defense. It's one weakness he hates this new land has surprised him with - people changing from animal forms that only seem to diversify more the longer they live in Caido. It's not something he was ever trained to spot, and that bothers him deeply. This life he's building here may be far more peaceful than any other paths Harper has trod, but he doubts there will ever be a day he doesn't react so intensely to being surprised.
Nevertheless, once the shock eases he releases his grip on the guitar and turns to give a sincere, warm smile to the man in the window. "High praise," he teases, as amiable and open as always, wandering closer and sliding the guitar on its strap to rest against his back. "Thank you." Because he was raised right, and as an individual he shines beneath the compliment like a newly minted penny, all cheeks and teeth and smiles. Far from embarrassed at being caught out, the performer in him too strong. "I'm still too worried about calling Safrin down for my silly questions and concerns, but I thought I'd sing for her a bit. What brings you here this late?" Pausing at the realization that he might be intruding in the same way. "I can leave, if you wanted to pray to her alone?"
Nevertheless, once the shock eases he releases his grip on the guitar and turns to give a sincere, warm smile to the man in the window. "High praise," he teases, as amiable and open as always, wandering closer and sliding the guitar on its strap to rest against his back. "Thank you." Because he was raised right, and as an individual he shines beneath the compliment like a newly minted penny, all cheeks and teeth and smiles. Far from embarrassed at being caught out, the performer in him too strong. "I'm still too worried about calling Safrin down for my silly questions and concerns, but I thought I'd sing for her a bit. What brings you here this late?" Pausing at the realization that he might be intruding in the same way. "I can leave, if you wanted to pray to her alone?"
Harper
