Ravensblood Forest Can I bring another bitch or nah?

His name sounded so impressive. Ashlar never thought to give his second name unless the one he met shared it, but the way both rolled off the man’s tongue, he was too charmed to want to introduce himself again. Just Ashlar suited him much better; he wasn’t impressive or noteable enough for more.

Besides, the man spoke of his song. The bard found it hard to not laser focus on these subjects even on the best of days. Today especially, when he was looking for distraction desperately. Ashlar smiled a bit self-consciously, though his expression still sparkled with the compliments.

The words are the hard part, but they are the part I like best. Making them match, it’s like catching a feeling and sharing it. He realized how that sounded and flushed a little more. Sometimes I’d play a game, to practice. But it’s been a long time. He looked down, thinking of the Rise and feeling a return of those lonely, bitter feelings that he hated carrying. No one at home sings. They rarely even spoke.

He loved them all dearly. Yet he sometimes wondered how much his presence meant to them, and if they might even rather have someone more suited to replace him. Especially now, on the path to war, with nothing but fear and regret in his heart.