[centre][color=fff79a][h1]Lairëcúma the Bard[/h1][/color][/centre]
[centre][img]https://i.postimg.cc/XvwNBn1f/lairecuma.png[/img][/centre]
[hr][right][code] The Waystone Inn - Outside
Interactions: Cali [@FernStone], Ransom [@Atrophy], Lucky [@DrDistasteful]
Outfit: Little Indigo Riding Hood[/code][/right][hr]

The elven woman didn't respond to Cali immediately. The pair of men clearly commanded the scene, but something about her expression seemed to hint her attention was deep in some thought, her lips pursed and trembled as though something were just on the tip of her tongue she was struggling to say. Finally she seemed to notice Cali. Hiking the skirts of her long velvet robe from where its hems dragged in the snow, she sidestepped to make room for Cali next to her where she lingered beneath the eaves.

[color=fff79a]"Sorry."[/color] She said at last in a whisper, as if not wanting to disturb the men and still sounding distracted. [color=fff79a]"No need to worry on my account. Not my first tavern brawl."[/color] Something about the disinterested way she said that suggested this was a dramatic understatement. 

[color=fff79a]"If you pay attention though, I've learned to find my muse in the..."[/color] Lairëcúma's face scrunched a little in concentration, searching clearly searching for how to articulate something in a particular way. [color=fff79a]"...absurdly idiotic."[/color]

The tension returned as Lairëcúma turned her attention back to whatever puzzle had been occupying her. Whatever it was was clearly far more engaging for her than the prospect of imminent violence about to take place a few feet away. 

Finally her features seemed to ease as whatever thought had been rattling around her elven head found resolution, and Lairëcúma's foot began to testingly tap against the fresh fallen snow. Her eyes turned skyward, her eyes wide as she turned her head up, her hand reaching out to the moon like child trying to grasp the thing. Her eyes followed the large white flakes of snow as danced their way earthward caught against the moon as they fell between her outstretched fingers.

Her voice, when it finally came, was a hesitant, halting thing. Like newborn fawn taking its first shaky steps. Quivering, high-strung, and sweetly forlorn - like strings drawn taut, ready to snap. It was quiet, yet haunting in its beauty as Ransom and Lucky faced off with one another on a few steps away.

[centre][color=fff79a]"[i]Snowfall,
On yet another night
Shimmering with the moon,
Against the silver light.[/i]"[/color][/centre]

Where the first stanza was scarcely heard over the blustering of the men, probably only clearly by Cali who stood next to her, the second Lairëcúma gave a fuller voice, rising briefly in force before fading again back into the night on the fading note of disappointment.

[centre][color=fff79a][i]Blood red,
On yet another night,
Huddled under snowy eaves,
While assholes square up to fight
Snow goes red and snow goes white...
It's just another night.

It could've been so much more...
Than just another...
Bar fight.[/i][/color][/centre]