Open Fields of Grace

Bastien had a day away from the bar and had decided to take a walk. He was not entirely sure of the geography of the area but was quite content to get lost for a day, basking in the simple experience of taking in the world. After all, this world was all new to him. He had never been one for rolling fields before, preferring the wonders of man-made architecture. But now that he was discovering everything for the first time and what was man-made was so basic and broken...he found a new appreciation for the grasses and flowers splayed out before him. He heard something on the wind that he could swear sounded like music. Missing the concerts and street buskers of his home city he tried his best to follow the sound. Knowing he was going the right way when he could recognise an actual tune in the air he smiled wide and sped up a little, trying to find this mysterious musician. Finally he saw a man sat in a field playing guitar, seemingly by himself. Bastien approached softly, quietly, not wanting to disturb the song. Eventually he was behind Kalt and wished to stand and listen, but the man seemed to stiffen even though his music continued. Walking around to his front, Bastien waved and went to sit down across from him. "Hello, friend. I heard your beautiful song and had to come and see. It has been so long since I have met a fellow artist. This place seems almost destitute of good art. Is it a specific song or just where your fingers take you?" BASTIEN This tiresome desire to shock and amaze Perhaps I’ll grow out of it one of these days