& oh, poor atlas - the world's a beast of a burden
Both Amalia and Roland watch as Finn drinks in the store, though their attentions are clearly on different things. The shopkeeper chuckles as the young man pauses at the sound of the guitar, squeezing the Shield's shoulder gently before walking away. Amalia scarcely notices: she's still entranced and bemused by the change that's come over Finn. It's only when he speaks again that she realizes she's staring; cheeks flushing even redder, if possible, she clears her throat and turns abruptly to inspect a tambourine.
"No. My grandmother did, but I never had much musical talent." Her delicate fingers pick up the instrument, tapping a simple rhythm over the tanned hide and causing the bells to chime. "You said you write music, though? And play?" Again she's looking at him, eager eyes wide. "What instruments? Maybe Roland can find you one to play- if. If you want."
"No. My grandmother did, but I never had much musical talent." Her delicate fingers pick up the instrument, tapping a simple rhythm over the tanned hide and causing the bells to chime. "You said you write music, though? And play?" Again she's looking at him, eager eyes wide. "What instruments? Maybe Roland can find you one to play- if. If you want."
you've been holding on a long time
