Oh sing sweet Nightingale, sing sweet...
The Nightingale looked up, honeyed gaze distant at best. The usual cheer with which she greeted her guests was lost. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Who was this man? Did she know him? Her focus blurred for a moment, in and out, almost in time with the distant crash of the waves. She was supposed to be doing something...but she couldn't remember.His question would still be answered, though perhaps from an unexpected source. "Patience, sailor boy. Where is the rush?" came the distinct, gravelly tenor of Branbast as he hopped up onto the counter, sitting with a flourish of his tail.
"Branbast!" Phoebe said with delight, as if she had not seen the cat in ages even though he had just been upon her lap. His tail twitched, watching Saiden with a wide-eyed, unsettlingly steady gaze as the Madame stroked his fur. But she seemed unsteady, leaning to one side precariously so. "She ails, she wails, she flounders and falls, alas a lass alone." he hummed, eyes shifting to gaze at Phoebe as she continued to lean further and further on the edge of her seat.
"Foolish fishies fly while daring dockmen dive. But will you catch this catch so caught in crashing?"
As if on cue the Madame fell from her seat.
...high above me
The Nightingale
