It was a fine day for a revelry, or it would be, were it not raining quite so heavily. Hell, even with the rain, it was still a nice day, except for the fact that he had no company, save for Breixo, and he didn't count, anyway. Gazing mournfully out over the beach from beneath the ledge they'd taken shelter under, Drakien considered breaking open one of his flasks, but he had so few left and it really wasn't worth it, anyway. Slumping against his pack, he sighed, glancing over the thrown-together campsite, and then looked up at Breixo, who glared down at him disdainfully, obviously unhappy about being trapped out in the rain. Drakien muttered something uncomplimentary in Russian, and got a snort in return, before Briexo's snout slowly lowered and he began 'lip'ing Drakien's shoulder. The young wolf allowed it for a long moment, until it seemed Breixo was aiming for an attack, as the maw opened and he barely managed to get away in time before blunt teeth sank into his shoulder. "Perestanʹ, Breixo! YA ne schastlivyee ob etom, chem vy!" He hissed, baring his teeth and laying his ears back with a snarl. The heavy metal rings in the edges of his appendages clinked together softly as he did so, and Breixo neighed softly, his head bending lower and nudging Drakien's bags, which laid against the very back wall to avoid the wetness as much as possible.
Drakien blinked, and Breixo nudged them again, snorting impatiently, before lifting the one which held his small lute and other instruments, wrapped in many layers of cloth and carried as carefully as he could manage, as he didn't have cases for them. "Budʹte ostorozhny s temi!" He moved forward, catching the instruments just as Breixo dropped them, and then seemed to realize what his bone-headed horse wanted. Blinking suspiciously, he set the bags down, and then had to stop Breixo from out-right trampling them, muttering darkly under his breath. "Khorosho, khorosho, ya ponyal! Muzyka, vy khotite, muzyka!" He moved to sort through the bags, and then pulled out his reed pipe, as it was the easiest to play and didn't require any vocal accompaniment, as all music seemed to, at least to his ears. Shaking his head ruefully at Breixo as the horse immediately settled in to listen--he'd been around the Romani too long, Drakien thought with an amused little grin--he sat himself down and began to play, first a few warm-up tunes and then the first, beautifully haunting melody he'd ever heard. He had to admit it sounded better when the rest of the sindhi played, but the song was familiar and it warmed his heart, sitting here on this windy, rainy night, in the company of a horse who was probably just as lonely as he was.
It reminded him of better days.[/html]