I've been waiting for this. I sit back with the flute in my hands and look at the song in front of me. I am a musician, in case anyone didn't know, and getting new songs from my various sources as always a joy for me. It seems as if it's been an age since I've gotten one. Somehow I wish I could free myself to play, but no such luck since I'm sitting in a park full of people. It's a good thing itt's hot out today, it gives me a good reason to ware the red hat, even if it is just a tad to large for my head. It used to belong to another of my kind, who others have taken to calling Gavin. Though why I can't say.

I listen to my own playing, the gentle notes flowing out into the still air as I try to pick out the melody for 'Ancient Voices', and at first fail miserably at it. This frustrats me; I'm usually very good at picking up songs the first or second time I read throug them, so why, dear lovely Mother of us all, has it taken me four times to pull this off?

"That was well played." This from an almost resonant male voice.
I blink, "Mmm? No it isn't. Not for me, at least."
"That is not an easy song, Miss- I should know: I, too, learned it."
I turn to see who I am speaking with, and nearly recoil. He is dark, not of skin, though he wasn't what one would call fair skinned; definitely not what one would call "white," but of presence. It wasn't necesarily that he was- evil, just... dark. And his eyes. I'd never seen such penetrating grays before. It was almost like he picked up your soul with them, held, weighed, measured it- then let it go. All in the space of half a tick. His hair, long and black was dun up almost in the Native American stile. Two braids down his back, tied with Leather thongs with what looked like feathers of a raven dangling from them.
"Miss?"
"Hmm?" I was recovering from the shock of seeing him, "Sorry," I said softly, "Never seen someone like you. You startled me just a little, sir."
"Want me to help you learn this, Lady? The reason it's a little tricky is because it's got other instruments you have to account for, too. Like the violin." He indicated a part that I'd never really paid attention to before. "Luckily you are not having to worry about drums in this pice, it's too mellow for them."
I nodded, "I think I've got it now, but if you could play it once through, Young lad, I would appreciate that. I *would* like to know what it sounds like without interruption."
He nodded. And took out a flute. And what a piece! It was cedar. The bird must have been something else; it was black as black as night. Perhaps ebony or oak dyed black; I didn't know. But it was a raven's head. Done in exquisite detail down to the beak and the last feather. And the sound it produced was nothing short of magical. Nothing short of amazing. I listened for a time, and when he glanced over, he smiled when he noticed me watching his fingers.
Then it was my turn. He didn't stop playing as I picked up the melody on his second time through, he stopped whenever I flubbed a not, waited for me to fix it, then was of from wherever I was. After two tries, it was if we'd been playing together for years. Goddess of the Stars it was wonderful! The joy of playing with another talented musicion... I just... Well, I can't describe it; it defies words. It really truly does.
"Come again?" He asked softly, "Not very often I get to play with someone such as yourself."
I nodded, "Yes. I think I shall." My answer was just as soft. Odd to see something like this from a man such as he. Strange to see such a softness in one who seemed so- so- so guarded.
"I am Clarien, Lady. You are?"
I chose to give him the name I was most known by. WHile my name Is maeve, It is many my family who calls me that, now I am known by most of the world as, "Songblade, Clarien. I am songblade. It seems to me you enjoy music as much as I do."
He nodded, "And books, My Lady. And books. I- I think I should go now though; It grows late."
I glanced up, and blinked. Then nodded, "As should I. Especially if I want to get a run in before it is full dark. Until we meet again."
Clarien nodded, then just seemed to vanish. Vanish like so much mist and shadow. Od... had he even bin there? Or had all of this just been one amazingly vivid dream?

Somewhere deep in the night, soft flute notes could be herd; the song they played reminded one of ancient voices. Those who heard it dismissed it as a trick of the wind that had just sprung to life and made the trees sing and sway. All save one odd looking woman who seemed to have ageless eyes: She smild slowly, knowwingly, then let out a soft chuckle. She leaned back and closed her eyes for a long moment. Somehow the woman felt that there was much more to this young Clarien than even first met her eyes. It was odd, this feeling of having been honored by his presence, this sense of knowing that it wasn't just anyone he came to; not just anyone he played for. She sat back, listening to the flute song in the wind- Until finally it faded, and she was left with only the true sound of the wind in the trees.

I'm a runner; it's my joy.

Ever since I was small, I've enjoyed running. The sound of the wind behind your ears. The pleasant buzz of it. Also the wind in your face, and the fact, that if you run just fast enough, you might just feel like you're flying. Then there's the ground under your feet. Or... are you sure? Again, sometimes it feels like your flying. The way it changes, the chalenge of running on different surfaces. The forest's soil, the sand on a beach, the cement of a sidewalk or driveway; the asfalt of the ocasional street or parking lot. Then the breathing. The rhythm of it, the feel of the air as it comes through the nose, then out the mouth, the smell, the taste, the- sense of it.

But running isn't just that. Running isn't just the way you move, the way you breathe, the ground and the wind; it's more. When you run, you have a duty. A duty to yourself, and the others you run for. You have a duty to take care of your body. You have a duty to make it strong, lean and fit. That's why I don't drink much pop; it has the potential to make you gain wait, and you have a lot of the health risks associated with it, too. Most often it's water, gater Ade, juices, and the occasional lemonade or hot tea drink. Then there's the food. Pasta, bread, fruits, vegetables, and the meat. There are some runners who don't eat meat; I'm sorry I'm not one. Now, I do avoid the red stuff--for the most part anyway--but nothing else. I'm just as happy to pick up a grilled chicken breast and chao down as the next girll, and cover that thing in barbecue sauce and you will have me purring with delight. I'm just as willing to buy a turkey sandwich too, and fish? Now there's a delicacy; something I don't eat often, but will. I love it, oddly enough, it's just that most times I'm not in a place where they serv it.

Anyway I digress, I tend to do that. You have a duty to keep yourself in top form, because if you don't, then not many people will want you to run for them because they know it'll take you longer; they want fast. Fast and efficient and strong. But they also want loyalty and honor--at least all the ones I work for do; I will take no less than that. I love my job; I wouldn't have it if I didn't. I love my life, even though it has been- well, quite long, let's put it that way.

"Songblade, I have a proposition for you..."
I have to light up everytime I hear those words; let the games begin. I will run with the winds. I will run as long as the propositions keep coming to me, and I will most certainly run for as long as I can, this I promise. this I do swear.

Ah, but running, it isn't my only joy. Running isn't the only thing I take passion for. My other joy is music, but that will be for another day: another time.

Songblade