[Cynder]

(('D.C.', Male Soundscape Kuhna))

Really, sometimes it was a hassle being this talented.

For one thing, there was all the equipment. Lugging multiple instruments around when you were this small wasn't easy. At least he didn't play something absurdly large...like string bass or tuba or bari sax. But still, playing this many instruments wasn't exactly the most convenient thing in the world.

He didn't have all his instruments with him at the moment. In his jaws he carried his tattered, worn, loved violin in its equally worn case, as well as his kuhna-sized acustic guitar. Behind him he painfully dragged his tom-toms, decorated with beads and randomly-splashed green and brown paint, looking like a Kamo kuhna. So that was three out of six instruments. Not too bad. These three went wonderfully together, and he had to say they were his favorite. No matter how many times Cynder insisted that 'brass is where it's at', he failed to see how her trumpet or his French horn could beat the joyful trilling of the violin or the soul and rhythm of the guitar and tom-toms together. Yes, he could play them together, a discovery he had made almost when he first realized he was into music. It was wonderful having four paws.

A shady grove of trees on the edge of the park caught his eye, and he ambled towards it as quickly as he could. He was in his mood, his musician mood, where he had to get these feelings out, express them through these tools of emotion. It didn't matter to him if he was disturbing others playing in the park. He played his music for himself alone, with no regards to what anyone else thought of it. Reaching his selected grove, he carefully set down his most prized possesions, and opened his violin case with barely concealed eagerness, like a child with a new toy. The varnish of the wood was worn thin and the shine almost gone, but it was beautiful all the same, because of the aura it gave off: an aura of being played through many generations by countless musicians, each producing a sound that was unique and special. With a movement that was as practiced for him as breathing, D.C. deftly lifted the violin out of its case, tucked it under his chin, and drew the bow across a string. It produced a single clear note, echoing around the park. He smiled.

[auntslappy282]

A girl looked over at the Khuna who strung a single string of his violin. Her heart hardened. Music has no soul left in it for me. She frowned and looked around the park. There wasn't very many people in the park at the moment. She was practically alone with the Khuna. She looked around. The sky turned dark with the blood red color that liked to haunt her every memory.

She looked over at the Khuna. He had turned into a terrible being, trying to engulf her. Blood was splattered along his face. She looked at him, terrified. She turned away. It's only in my head. It's only in my head. It's only in my head... Pesa repeated the words in her mind over and over again. She stood up to leave. She hadn't taken her medication. She was scared of the future. It terrified her to the extreme's. She frowned. It was hard to walk in a straight line. It was almost like she was drunk. Pesa made her way toward the other end of the park. Unfortunately, to get where she wanted to go, she needed to cross the Khuna's line of site. She shuddered at the thought of being comforted. She was always comforted but then tossed aside in the dirt.

(Pesa is in her human form. )