Multi-pup post: Outside, morning

[cook_the_rude]

It's late on Sunday morning, almost lunchtime, and outside the bar, there are quite a number of people about.

• Dr. Hannibal Lecter is walking along the shore of the lake towards the bar, carrying four small dead birds with orange bills.
• Teja and Ragnar are working together at the edge of the woods, near the forge, constructing a charcoal kiln. It's that time of year again.
• Father Pearse Harman is talking to the last parishioners from today's service at the church in the woods that are still lingering. One of them might have an actual issue they would want to talk about when the others are gone.
• Dorian Gray is at the Caribbean inlet, basking in the warmth while wearing only very skimpy swim trunks. At least his contemporaries would find this incredibly scandalous.
• Alex Vause is walking around the shore of the lake -- not doing anything specific, just walking and enjoying the illusion of not being locked up.

[[OOC: Open until it scrolls -- say in your tag whom you want, or you might get tagged back by a random charrie. Warning for sexual content in the Ganymede thread.]]

Comments

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric comes down from the mountain path, light-footed in the fading snow. He greets Ragnar and Teja with a smile. "Working hard? I have berries to share, if you'd like some." He has a couple of handfuls of red berries in the cup of his tunic hem.

[ostro_goth]

"Where do you find berries in the dead of winter?" Teja asks, coming closer in curiosity.

"Oh, berries!" Ragnar adds.

[thewidewideworld]

"There are wild protected places high in the mountain where the seasons do not hold sway." Sinric explains, smiling as he offers the berries to them. "How goes the building?"

[ostro_goth]

"It goes well," Teja says. "Ragnar knows well how to work hard. We can soon fire the kiln."

[thewidewideworld]

"Can I be of assistance? I fear I'm not so stong as either of you but I would be glad to learn."

[ostro_goth]

Ragnar scratches his head. "You might cut turf," he suggests.

"Or make small kindling," Teja offers.

[thewidewideworld]

"Kindling sounds more to my skill. Show me what you need and I will see to it. And perhaps provide some music to make the work go faster?"

[ostro_goth]

"Music would be truly welcome," Teja says, "to make the work go smoother. Let me show you?"

He picks up a rather small axe.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric watches and learns gladly, quick to pick up new skills.

He waits till Teja finishes explaining before lifting his voice in a working song, something with an easy rhythm.

[ostro_goth]

Teja sings along with well-trained voice; so does Ragnar, but his singing is much more rough-shod.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric's training is also to sing with others, to bend his voice to complement theirs. And he does, pitching perfectly to harmonise with theirs as he cuts kindling.

[ostro_goth]

Teja let's his voice drop to a bass, carrying the clarity of Sinric's voice by steady counterpoint.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric smiles, laugher in his eyes but he keeps it from making his voice waver. It's lovely to sing with someone else with training. As good as Ragnar's voice is, Sinric and Teja are singing on a different plane.

[ostro_goth]

Teja goes for something beyond either of their times, turning his harmonic bass line into a proper baroque basso continuo.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric grins, following suit. He can sing baroque too. And does, playful and skilled.

[ostro_goth]

When Teja notices, he turns his improvisation into something slightly more elaborate, leaving it to Ragnar to hold the melody proper, which he has no problem with.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric follows suit, throwing in a few vocal trips. Gilbert and Sullivan would have killed to have Sinric's voice in their ensemble.

[ostro_goth]

Teja increases the strength of his stately rhythm, letting Sinric soar, and trip ahead.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric is having far too much, letting his voice grow and glide. He might let a little magic leak in, the snow around his feet melting, the grass growing green and bright.

[ostro_goth]

Singing has words, so Teja sings what he needs to say.

"Snow stays fiery flame that spring spreads," relying on alliteration as in his people's tradition.

[thewidewideworld]

"And grow and grow the Spring. Let joy return with the warming sun." Sinric sings in return, joyously unaware of what effect his magic is happening.

[ostro_goth]

"Sing the sun, fan the flames of shining spring," Teja replies, still trying to convey that charcoal kilns are run in winter for a reason.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric frowns, not catching Teja's meaning. And then he looks down at his feet and laughs, breaking off the song. "Oh dear. It seems I got carried away."

[ostro_goth]

"What happens if you are truly pleased?" Teja asks.

Ragnar sniggers.

[thewidewideworld]

Sinric shoots Ragnar a sharp look. Kittenishly sharp. The sort of look that warns ones dangling fingers are in danger.

He steps out of the circle of green, carrying the pile of kindling to add to the rest. "If I concentrated, I'm able to share great pleasure in a song. To allow another to feel as I feel." He answers with some dignity despite Ragnar's teasing.