voice/open action
I feel as if I've let my music slip for far too long. Lestat would be cross with me if I didn't keep up, as would Gren and my own Master. I'll be playing in Xanadu tonight, if anyone would like to join me.
In the chill of the evening stands a young woman garbed in blue leathers, looking up at the lower branches of the tree she's standing under. In her hands is a set of deep plum colored reed pipes, her slim fingers flying over the hand bored holes as sends soft notes into the cool air.
In the chill of the evening stands a young woman garbed in blue leathers, looking up at the lower branches of the tree she's standing under. In her hands is a set of deep plum colored reed pipes, her slim fingers flying over the hand bored holes as sends soft notes into the cool air.