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As the tall, slim figure walked down the street, his unearthly, off-white eyes were sparkling with mischief and good humour. Along the very edge of the curb he walked, one foot in front of the other though very carefully so that he could keep his balance. His shirt, a large polo which hung off him like materiel might hang from a skeleton, had three buttons at the top which were unbottoned so that the corners of the collar pointed out toward his shoulders. The male was narrow-chested, and of a very slim, lithe build; he was graceful, to say the least, and moved with an airy grace which was not often found in a male. His jawline was delicate and cheekbones high, giving him an air of almost elvish nobility. His pert ears were perked atop his head and the stripes on his soft fur accented the muscliature of his neck, disappearing beneath the shirt. His pants were made of the same, beige, cotton materiel, and a rope was used as his belt. He looked very much as though he had stepped out of a century long ago, and onto modern streets.[/html]
"I gave my love a cherry
That had no stone
I gave my love a chicken
That had no bone
I told my love a story
That had no end
I gave my love a baby
With no crying."
As Faust walked along, balancing on the edge of the pavement he sang; his voice was high and clear, lilting and pure. Rather than being low and dreamy, it was soft and smoothe, not so high as to sound boyish, though a clear tenor. He did not use an excessive amount of either chest voice or head voice, and used vibrato sparingly, as a true artist would. He sounded nothing like an opera singer, though there was a pleasant, folkish quality to the timbre of his voice, and the occasional elaborations he made on the melody signified that Faust was not afraid to improvise a little bit.
"How can there be a cherry
That has no stone?
And how can there be a chicken
That has no bone?
And how can there be a story
That has no end?
And how can there be a baby
With no crying?"
He came to the steps of the library, seeing a lady sitting there, as dark as a raven's wing, and gave her an amicable, cheeky grin and winked as he continued singing the final verse of his song as he continued to balance, walking along the edge of the pavement.
"A cherry when it's blooming
It has no stone
A chicken when in the shell
It has no bone
The story of how I love you
It has no end
A baby when it's sleeping
It's not crying."