[center][Color=DeepPink][h1]Bozo the Bard[/h1][/color][/center]

Wading through a tightly packed crowd was always a struggle, but Widry was half the size of the people around her. Many of them swarmed her for another performance and a few of them she obliged, dazzling them with a simple trick or a short song, usually something they might have heard before the ban, old drinking songs, or work tunes. When Widry could pry herself free of her next batch of enraptured onlookers, she would scurry as fast as her tiny feet could, slowly making her way toward the King's chambers. 

As Widry drew nearer, she noticed fewer people were bothering her, and her ears perked as she found the explanation. The steady beat of drum played in a way she knew well, and more evidently, the shout the dwarf bellowed out, demanding the already commenced revelry begin anew. Widry was happy to oblige and sang out to him with her flute. Guiding her way with a series of swirling orbs of light, the crowd parted for Widry Briefly enough for her to come face to face with a fellow clown. His expression had been sculpted and painted into a permanent frown, juxtaposed with the beaming smile his smaller friend gave him. Quickly she rushed to his side as she continued to play in tune with him. As she finally pulled her lips from her flute to gasp for air, she asked him quickly.

[color=DeepPink]"Grimi need me?"[/color] Was all she could mutter before her exaggerated lips were pressed against her mouthpiece again and releasing a beautiful menagerie of rapid-paced notes. She added a comical jig to her display, bouncing about in front of Happy and twirling about. The crowd seemed to always demand her attention, as even after posing the question she never looked over to Rockmar. She was far too entranced in their harmonic performance.