Hester
I've told you time and time again
"I... think she is? I mean, she must be, I know she's an outlander, so unless someone else took her in..." The ramble ends with a quiet hum, Hester trying to summon that first day back to her mind, the chaos and changes and busyness. "Her name is Mallorie." The name is the last thing out of her lips on the subject, though it's not the last she has to say, not by a long shot.
"She's actually the first outlander that I met." Hester says softly, before stroking her chin and appending the statement. "That I know of, at least. Usually they, er... you," a short laugh, "stick out though, so... she might have been the first." There are times where Hester's been described as 'a little too much', and she can clearly hear her mothers voice in her head now, telling her to stop talking, to let anything else do her speaking for her, instead of letting every idle thought flow through her mouth.
She offers Chuy a smile and a nod at the correct pronunciation of her name, hazarding to use her voice once more to reply. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well." And then? Then she lets her fiddle do her talking for her.
Fingers move skilfully over the strings, long bright notes ringing out into the library, too jaunty to really be melancholy, but too slow to be anything else. The sound swelled, filling the area, and Hester's eyes closed, just as everything picked up, as the melancholy shifted into a jig, the kind of song that sounded as at home here as it would echoing off the top of a mountain. Even without words, it brought to mind somewhere safe waiting just around the bend, with a warm bed and good food, better liquor and company.
It isn't a long song, though it seems to slow down the time that passes as it's played, seems to stretch so much more time into the few short minutes the song lasts. Hester lets out a deep breath as she lowers her bow and fiddle both, eyes opening to look over at Chulane, searching for his reaction before her voice requested it. Korbin's voice rang in her ears now, accusing her of being pitchy though she shoved it away in favour of the man before her. "What'd you think?"
"She's actually the first outlander that I met." Hester says softly, before stroking her chin and appending the statement. "That I know of, at least. Usually they, er... you," a short laugh, "stick out though, so... she might have been the first." There are times where Hester's been described as 'a little too much', and she can clearly hear her mothers voice in her head now, telling her to stop talking, to let anything else do her speaking for her, instead of letting every idle thought flow through her mouth.
She offers Chuy a smile and a nod at the correct pronunciation of her name, hazarding to use her voice once more to reply. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well." And then? Then she lets her fiddle do her talking for her.
Fingers move skilfully over the strings, long bright notes ringing out into the library, too jaunty to really be melancholy, but too slow to be anything else. The sound swelled, filling the area, and Hester's eyes closed, just as everything picked up, as the melancholy shifted into a jig, the kind of song that sounded as at home here as it would echoing off the top of a mountain. Even without words, it brought to mind somewhere safe waiting just around the bend, with a warm bed and good food, better liquor and company.
It isn't a long song, though it seems to slow down the time that passes as it's played, seems to stretch so much more time into the few short minutes the song lasts. Hester lets out a deep breath as she lowers her bow and fiddle both, eyes opening to look over at Chulane, searching for his reaction before her voice requested it. Korbin's voice rang in her ears now, accusing her of being pitchy though she shoved it away in favour of the man before her. "What'd you think?"
You sing the words, but don't know what it means
