Isla
It is, indeed, a melody on the breeze that has Isla's head turning, the Remedy still half straightened up from where she's plucked some seagrass from a rocky outcrop. Not one to instantly orient herself towards a stranger clearly in the middle of something, she nonetheless casually meanders towards the sound, if for no other reason than to see the person responsible for making such sweet music.
Granted, all of that changes when it turns out to be a person she knows. Standing, bemused and charmed by the sight of the aviator in such a state of disarray - and marvelling at his skill with the guitar while simultaneously wondering at the logic of his rhymes - Isla jumps a fraction as she realises she's been noticed.
"Sorry," she says through a soft laugh. "I didn't realise you could play. Please, don't stop on my account." In the back of her mind she instinctively wants to ask if Ever is feeling okay (she's known fevers to cause people to act out of character) but it's not like she knows him all that well.
Granted, all of that changes when it turns out to be a person she knows. Standing, bemused and charmed by the sight of the aviator in such a state of disarray - and marvelling at his skill with the guitar while simultaneously wondering at the logic of his rhymes - Isla jumps a fraction as she realises she's been noticed.
"Sorry," she says through a soft laugh. "I didn't realise you could play. Please, don't stop on my account." In the back of her mind she instinctively wants to ask if Ever is feeling okay (she's known fevers to cause people to act out of character) but it's not like she knows him all that well.
I'll take a bruise, I know you're worth it
When you hit me, hit me hard
When you hit me, hit me hard
