choir practice (open)

Lily sing me a song of a lass that is gone Oh! A fellow Celt!? His song almost stops her in her tracks. Almost.   Lily’s eyes widen when she hears the man sing, an equally big smile spreading across her face like a hot knife through butter. The luxere at the edge of the herd begin to turn towards Oliver, extending their heads and sniffing at him in a very curious way, wondering in that deer-like way, if perhaps he might have something for them to eat? It is the singing that draws them in, but the food that keeps them happy and content. The entertainer claps her hands. The tune isn’t familiar, but the phrasing and the name Killarney are recognizeable to the lass. “Oh very good!You have a lovely voice.” She takes a few steps forward and asks brightly “Where are you from?” She knows now that there are all sorts of world. All kinds of people, with different backgrounds. From different times, even - like Bastien, who was from her Earth, but a different year. merry of soul, she sailed on a day over the sea to Skye