"What a beautiful voice you have."
She speaks in tones of honeysuckle and lilac, and her sigh is as sweet as the breeze that rustles through the branches of Mathair.
If Jigano looks up he will see her draped in the mother-tree's boughs, her sheer slips of clothing aflutter like the leaves, her fiery hair unbound. Golden eyes watch, hooded and languid, as the bard coaxes and teases his song from the harp.
"Truly. I see you are not all talk, sweet one. What wonder you bring to the Wildwood with your melody." She grins.
Sum of all, and by them, driven
To conquer every mountain shown