Cuando le pide a una estrella

East of Amherst :: Words→ 000

Day by day, the idea of wandering became more exciting to Leto. He was a closed off old man, it had been his plan to find a home and stick near it, settle his final years in peace without a worry or care beyond Sabina's safety. But exploring the city, going through forests that were more green than all the plant life in Villa Uníon combined, washing in rivers and meeting with locals that weren't as untrustworthy as Leto would once have believed had the old man longing to see a bit more. He was cautious, as usual, and wouldn't let his intrigue stop him from being his usual grumpy self, but the old man was waking up with purpose in the mornings. Today he went past Amherst and east, following some of the road he and Sabina had travelled down from, but then cutting off to enter some of the forest. The goats were confused at first, used to pulling the small cart down more obvious routes, but a few firm clicks got them trotting and weaving through the trees. Provided they didn't get lost or get caught on a tree root the cart would travel fine. And if it did get stuck, well... the old man would figure something out.

The wooden wheels squeaked as the two goats pulled their skinny master through groves and small fields, with Leto humming old songs to himself as he tried to remain still on the back of the cart so to not jostle his bad leg too much. Birds fluttered by in small flocks and clouds of feathers, catching Leto's magenta eyes for a moment. Their whistles and clicks were akin to song, but there was another voice amongst them. Leto leaned forward to part on Capri's rump to stop the goats as he listened carefully. Somewhere close, Leto was certain he could hear singing.

Usually with any sign of others Leto was encouraged to avoid them and move along. But singing and music was another matter. Through the suffering Leto experience, music had been his life-force, the only thing keeping him going through the despair of the Villa. It was something deeply special to the old dog, something he couldn't ignore no matter how grumpy or anti-social Leto was. Giving his goats a whistle, Leto set off towards the sound, pulling his guitar out from where it rested next to him and tuning the strings during his approach. By the time Leto could see the source of song, a she-wolf singing alone, the old man had a pattern in mind to play along to her singing, and began slowly strumming the chords out of his old friend, hoping for a moment he could become swallowed up by the beauty of music before the stranger questioned the dog's sudden appearance.

Flower gleam and glow,
let your power shine

See the Light, it's blinding

Lucia fought the loneliness with song, as she often did. The softly sung sounds helped sooth the twisting in her heart, the sadness behind her eyes. As always her small feathered friends twittered along to her gentle straining notes. The young chicks born in the spring now sported their adult's plumage, and could flutter along with valiant attempts at flight. Sometimes the femme would find an unlucky youngling on the ground where they had fallen, these she would pick and climb into the trees to return them where they might be safe.

She was picking berries again although it might have been for futility in her intent. There was barely a space space of her cottage that she could paint now unless she began to pain over those first artistic designs; And maybe she would do such a thing if she could bring herself to do so.

The volume of her own voice did drown out the rickety cart and the tuning sounds of the old man. It was not until he began to play in earnest did her tune fade away, Lucia turned to face him. A pretty surprise lilting the blueness of her eyes wide and so purely innocent.

She had never seen such a thing as he plucked at, but the sounds were coming from the wooden contraption and they happily matched the song she had been singing. She had been paused barely a handful of seconds before she took up the tone again, lips curving into a gleeful, joyous smile,

"♫ And if I must suffer.. let me do so in sunshine. And if I must rejoice... bring to me the bright summer days. This is my wish, I have opened wide my eyes again. ♫"

The woman's hands clasped together over her heart as the lyrics twisted their way over her lips. She was absorbed by the music, by the strumming notes that came from the man's.. creation.

I wrote a song o3o | [wc — --] template by hilli

East of Amherst :: Words→ 000

Such a sweet and tender thing, music was. It was the one thing Leto was allowed to enjoy throughout his life, and due to that it was treasured by the old man. He dreaded the day that his hearing might fade. Leto was glad his stump ears could still pick up sounds as well as others, living without hearing the music he loved would break Leto more than anything else. It reminded him of memories, joyful and sad, and playing the tunes out of his guitar soothed the old dog in a way no herbal remedy could. Finding moments to share his music with others was one of the only occasions where Leto was willing to trust and let go of his anxieties. So when he found her, the lone singer of a white and sandy browns, Leto dipped his hat in a small token of respect as he continued to play.

It took a moment for the girl to catch up with the music, her light blue eyes were enchanted by the sounds and the innocence showed that she, like many Leto had met, had never seen a guitar before. Though once she began to sing once more, Leto's fingers flicked and plucked more fervently over the strings, chords dancing in harmony with the lady's voice. The songs Leto usually played to were in his native tongue, usually sung by Sabina, so he wasn't quite used to playing along to words of a new language. But, Leto had played his guitar for a decade, with no one to compare to he could only assume he'd mastered the instrument. Fluttering against strings, Leto brought out light notes of joy to assist the lyrics the younger lady was producing, lifting them up in a way that didn't drown them out behind music but support them in the emotions they brought forth.

By the time the song seemed to draw to a close, like all beautiful things, Leto's tune slowed to a drawl as his fingers played across the strings almost absentmindedly. By this point the old man and his cart had come to a stop at a respectful distance, and Cabri and Cabra were happily helping themselves to tufts of grass poking out between tree roots. A smile crept across the old man's face, something rare for a stranger to see, and he tipped his head once more in a small bow. "You sing very well. Like songbird." He commented.

Flower gleam and glow,
let your power shine

See the Light, it's blinding

It was a joyous, hopeful sound. It leaped and bounded like the deer in the clearings when the rut was upon them, like the agile rabbits she hunted. The cheerful lady wove herself to and fro, swaying with the music they both made and joined together in harmonies. In times such as this Lucia could almost forget that the world held wickedness within it, all things seemed bright and pleasant.

As she swayed, her long hair did the same. Long trailing strands of pale cream, dusky twine and silvered bud danced around her as she twirled in a small circle.

Her voice rose to a sweet crescendo and even the twittering birds fell silent to listen. It was inherently obvious the joy that Lucia claimed from her music, the brightness of her soul given freedom.

The stranger smiled and tipped his hat to her, Lucia returned his smile with one that might have blinded a lesser man and dipped to curtsy.

The Amarok princess spread her inner light wherever she went, touching those who might be in most need of heartening. It was an unconscious thing, she barely even realized she brought such brilliance to the earth. Did the aurora notice that it shined so brightly?

"Thank you! I like to sing, it makes me happy." The woman smiled shyly, a faint flush coming to her pale cheeks but her blue eyes sparkled like summer's sky.

"You make good sounds too.." She mimicked his actions to make the music on his wooden thing. She laughed, a high trilling sound full of amazement.

He was an older male, she could tell that just by looking at him. His coat was beginning to fade, he was thin and from the scars she could guess he'd had a hard life. She took steps closer, brushing back long cascades of hair with her fingers, tucking it behind her ears as much as she could.

"I'm Lucia.."

ooc | [wc — --] template by hilli

East of Amherst :: Words→ 000

Leto's deep passion for music didn't make him hard to please; he didn't discriminate singing voices or types of song, the old man saw music in everything. His own voice was crackled and harsh but it didn't stop Leto from trying to bellow a tune from time to time. Anyone could sing, dance or play, music was something to enjoy and share. Everything held some kind of music inside it, from the birds to the wind and trees. But when Leto found a voice so harmonic and wonderful, he felt a little blessed. Anyone could sing yes, but only a few could be perfect at it. This lady had such a voice, and it made the old man feel relaxed, as if he'd just received one of Sabina's herbal painkillers.

"Music is happy thing, sí." Leto agreed, plucking at guitar strings gently. "Music is emotion, can change from happy to sad, always fit to how you feel. Is good to share too." As much as Leto usually cared little over how his local tongue came out, right now he did try to make some sense, to express how he felt about music to someone who clearly appreciated it just as much as the old man did.

"Un placer conocerte Lucia."

Leto replied with a small smile, "I am Leto. This is a guitar. It makes the music I cannot sing. I play it for ah... many years."

Flower gleam and glow,
let your power shine

See the Light, it's blinding

She trailed closer to the aging male, still the wonder for his amazing creation, his... guitar. His words touched something inside of herself, happy and sad emotions whirled together. Loneliness too, could fall under this canopy. As a single wolf, bereft of a pack or a mate, who's children were old enough to run by themselves. Lucia was alone for much of her time, it gnawed at her, a rat chewing away splinters.

She paused, hesitating for moments before reaching down to gently pat the neck of one of his little goats, her fingers dancing through soft fur. Then she straightened and peered at him with placid eyes,

"Yes, much sadness too." She conceded with melodic tones. She was sharing her music with this hard-gone man though. That had to mean something, that joy and happy feelings could still be had. She thought briefly of the Warrior-Man who had listened to her songs and been eased by the sounds. She had sung for him until her voice had strained and become hoarse from overuse. Then when she could sing no more, she had hummed.

He spoke something, in a language she did not understand. Her name was there and he was smiling so she could only assume it was something kindly. She smiled.

"Leto.." She spoke his name in the same vein she had the other male's, ariose and dulcet. She was close to him now, still warying though with just a small amount of uncertainty. Some did not like such strangers so close.

"Could maybe... I try..?" The thoughts of lonliness were washed away in wake of prospects at trying such a marvelous thing. Her question was quietly shy, as though probably expecting rejection, the excitement could not be hidden from her summer's breath eyes, they sparkled like diamonds in the morning sunshine. She was eminently moonstruck of this idea.

ooc | [wc — --] template by hilli

East of Amherst :: Words→ 000

Those who shared a love of music always seemed to be the kindest speakers, though perhaps Leto was bias; he was hardly a kind old man himself. But there was a gentleness and an understanding that came from those who involved music in their lives that Leto never sensed from those who pulled away from song and dance. Old age, bad joints and worlds of pain built a bitter wall between Leto and his passion for music, but with enough force from another as passionate as him, the walls could be broken. Pupils relaxed and bony body resting happily in the back of the hard wooden cart, Leto gave the girl a smile as she followed his words, spoke about music and the emotion it could bring.

"Play for all emotion, it is power of music, sí?" Leto commented, knowing well what sadness music could bring. Leto had learnt over his time under someone else's foot how emotional music could become. His master would order him to play something 'nice' or 'slow' and Leto would put some feelings into it. He'd been snapped at on occasion for making his music too melancholy, though it was hard to play different in his moments of misery. So Leto would bend all sorts of emotion into his tunes, some so subtle only he could notice they were even there. Music was a language of it's own, only those willing to truly listen to it could understand what it tried to say.

In his comfortable state, Leto didn't glare at Lucia as she asked to play his precious guitar. The old man knew the girl appreciated music, and the respectful distance she still kept between herself and Leto's cart spoke of her caution. She was not about to break his closest companion, or run off with the guitar or injure the old man. Lucia wanted to feel the music of a guitar, and Leto couldn't blame her for that. After a long look, Leto smiled softly and nodded his head. "Sí, yes, come and play." Leto replied, gesturing the she-wolf to come closer. He held his guitar out as far as the strap across his shoulder would allow for Lucia to reach. "I hold string up here, you play down here." The old man instructed, keeping his fingers on the neck of the guitar whilst pointing towards the head of the instrument for Lucia to play.

After Lucia played a few notes, Leto's thin tail rapped against the side of the cart and he made a quick decision of trust in his head. "Here," The old man shuffled closer to the edge of his cart and pulled the guitar over his head so he could offer it out to the girl, "You hold now, use the ah... thing," Leto pointed to the shoulder strap, "put over head to help hold guitar. Then, you play."