[Bran is settled on a pile of rubble, legs folded under him, he's tuning an acoustic guitar. Leaned over the instrument, his face is intent and gentle, he hums a little when he's finished and settles back to look at the PCD. Sunlight shines on his hair and face, making him look strangely even younger.]Whether or not death is permanent here, whether
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[Eartwitch, yay.]
S'purty good. You got anything less, like... old though?
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Got a suggestion?
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Nnn, I dunno much music. 'Specially not western. Guess I'll just listen.
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[He strums his fingers over the keys, switching through a few chords thoughtfully, before settling on one.]
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... didn't know anyone could do that with their voice.
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Well I appreciate that, young man.
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No problem.
Where'd ya learn that?
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My voice?
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And the whole... playin' guitar thing.
[See icon for accompanying gestures.]
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[He smiles and starts to pack the guitar away. It's getting late, and the sun looks ready to set soon.]
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[The ears flick down.]
... you're gonna go?
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[He nods, setting the guitar gently in it's case and loosening the strings.]
Afraid so. I'm losing light. But I'll play again another time, how's that?
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Yeah, can't expect ya to sit an' play for anyone all day.
See ya later, huh?
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Another time, it seems we'll have plenty of time in this place.
Good night.
[Smile.]
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G'night.
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