Busking

<font color='#FA9B3C'>The courtyards were teeming with bodies weaving about each other, hurrying to or from class, some eatinga tidbit they have grasped in their paw, others chasing each other in circles, some sitting peacefully in one of the many grassy areas without much activity trampling their squahy green carpeting. But their was one particular tall, gruff looking brute who was shoving his way through the students, a couple of books clutched close to him with a single, muscular forearm. Though rather large, he wasn't easy to spot, didn't stick out like a sore thumb or any of that rubbish. This individual didn't bother with any of that, he rather tryed to keep to himself.

After bursting from the main, denser areas of the crowd, he re-adjusting himself to strolling peacefully amongst the fewer students, glaring silver eyes gazing about in a sort of reverie, searching for something to keep him occupied until his next class, a good two hours away. The cold season was well underway, encompassing the courtyard in a pallid winter light, turning the stone pathways cool to the touch. Some snow would have been nice, he thought to himself, more grueling practice conditions. Idle musings, however, were cut short as a delicate melody drifted through his ashened ears. Slowly, the mahogany head turned, silver gaze searching for the source of the music, and he discovered then the light blue 'dragon, finding with her joyous music and cool hue a perfect habitat in the wintry backdrop. Slowly, he made his way towards her, and upon drawing closer discovered that she wasn't much younger than him. Patiently he waited for the song to end, stern expression melting off fluidly, then slowly said, "Hi."</font>

 

<font color='#FA9B3C'>"Santiago Arcanus." He shook his head as she stood, and instead made to take a seat upon the ground. He seemed almost devilish, with a dark reddish coat and two goatlike horns jutting out at the sides of a hairdo that didn't suggest a taste for traditional music. Yet those glimmering metallic eyes seemed to study her gently, and though he didn't return the smile, facial features remaining relaxed, the fellow spoke not with bitterness as he usually does, but with a casual, mildly interested tone. "Oh? I enjoy music. Play something."</font>

 

<font color='#FA9B3C'><table align="center" width="400"><tr><td><div align="justify">Ebony traced maw twitched upwards slightly at its corners, smoky orbs regarding her curiously. "What does that have to do with my taste in music? Well, at any rate, I'm in athletics." He paused, perhaps considering her previous question, single digit skritching almost mischievously at his chin. The soft, impatient strumming inspired rather than distracted him, a deaf ear turned to the general bustling of students behind. Each with a life of their own. No one cared for the two aquaintances sitting at peace, content to simply share a basic pleasure. One had so embraced it that she would follow its path in her life, complete devotion, but the other was a mere runner, a player, one who lived not for the beats of the drum but for the thundering drumbeats of paws striking whatever they may. It was amazing how closely the body and spirit could be tied, and how different people could be, for two completely unlike hobbies made the blood boil in both their veins.

But music had been called the universal language, had it not? Save for the tragic souls without priorities, there was no creature under the sun who wouldn't pause to listen to the sweet, lulling melody of a lullaby, or who wouldn't pick up their steps at a quick and energizing beat. Only the truly deprived. Even within his own extremely fit but very walled, well-guarded heart, he had open doors for music, and truly admired and respected those who could so enchant other beings, seeking only to spread cheer, share the joy they found in this sacred artform. Who was he to judge? Traditional or not, if it was in tune he would stop and pay heed. "Play something you like. I want to hear."</div></td></tr></table></font>

 

<font color='#FA9B3C'><table align="center" width="400"><tr><td><div align="justify">As the song unraveled, a shy but honest smile bloomed wondrously on his maw. Beaming still after it finished, the runner raised a paw and gingerly ran it through his hair, grazing the stubby goat horns. "I love it!" he exclaimed earnestly, "Very catchy. I don't suppose you play any other instruments? Not that that one isn't lovely."</div></td></tr></table></font>

 

<font color='#FA9B3C'><table width="400" align="center"><tr><td><div align="justify">He shook his head softly at her inquiry, aluminum eyes watching the instrument with caution. An idea came to him, one that had actually crossed his mind before. "Could you teach me? To play it."</div></td></tr></table></font>