Moonspear ^_____^

When Alaric took a seat, Pie settled down at the edge of the overhang again, forepaws crossed at the ankles and dangling slightly. Their ears cupped toward the euphonic rise and fall of the bard’s voice as images floated through their mind.

They sensed there was more to the story than simply the two paths he described, though Treepie couldn’t quite grasp such concepts yet. They still enjoyed the poem at face value, particularly the bits that rhymed. Was there anything more pleasant to the ears?

Why’s it your favorite? Pie questioned after taking a moment to digest the piece.