Hester
I've told you time and time again
Fingers paused their plucking at the quip, Hester's eyes narrowing on the man for a moment. "Isn't it...?" She trails off, looking away as she gives it a moment of thought. Realization comes in that moment, and her hands rise to hide her eyes from him, but not the sheepish grin that crosses her face. "I always thought it was reversed. No one's ever corrected me!" She laughs, half embarrassed and half amused.
With her hands already distracted from their task, she can respond with more theatrics. His answer is the same as what she'd expected, of course he's obvious, but she can't help from commenting on it. "There's a little tell." She puts her hands on her hips and offers him an over-exaggerated wink as she does her best attempt at his accent. The pose is held for a moment, her hands falling back into their tuning naturally. "You're the second person I've met who arrived around that time." She comments, wondering if it's mere coincidence, or some grand pattern, far beyond their comprehension. "Sorry you got stuck with such an awful time to arrive."
The nickname had her brow rising, a cheeky edge entering her grin. "Chuy, huh?" She hums, lifting the fiddle up against her chin, finally satisfied with the tone to was producing. "But how's the taste?" Her laughter is drowned out in the scale she flies through, one last check that everything sounds right before she plays him something. "Hester Mac Girr An Adhastair." Comes the offer back, between scale and song, her chin dipping with the rhythm of her name. "Just Hester is fine though."
With that, she lifts her bow back up to the strings, glancing at Chuy to make sure he's paying attention, t make sure he doesn't have anything immediate to add before she begins her song.
With her hands already distracted from their task, she can respond with more theatrics. His answer is the same as what she'd expected, of course he's obvious, but she can't help from commenting on it. "There's a little tell." She puts her hands on her hips and offers him an over-exaggerated wink as she does her best attempt at his accent. The pose is held for a moment, her hands falling back into their tuning naturally. "You're the second person I've met who arrived around that time." She comments, wondering if it's mere coincidence, or some grand pattern, far beyond their comprehension. "Sorry you got stuck with such an awful time to arrive."
The nickname had her brow rising, a cheeky edge entering her grin. "Chuy, huh?" She hums, lifting the fiddle up against her chin, finally satisfied with the tone to was producing. "But how's the taste?" Her laughter is drowned out in the scale she flies through, one last check that everything sounds right before she plays him something. "Hester Mac Girr An Adhastair." Comes the offer back, between scale and song, her chin dipping with the rhythm of her name. "Just Hester is fine though."
With that, she lifts her bow back up to the strings, glancing at Chuy to make sure he's paying attention, t make sure he doesn't have anything immediate to add before she begins her song.
You sing the words, but don't know what it means
