Subject: A soft sound arose.
Posted on: 2017-10-31 19:12:48 UTC

The lament was Celtic in flavor, each high, mournful note unspooling with aching slowness from the throat of the man singing:

The tears I feel today
I’ll wait to shed tomorrow,
Though I’ll not sleep this night
Nor find surcease from sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight;
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to speak
Not choked with grief, clear-minded.
My tongue cannot betray
The anguish that I know.
||: I’ll keep my tears till later;
But my grief will never go. :||

Derik could rarely bring himself to sing anymore, but he still had a clear, near-perfect upper register. Even off-kilter as he was now, with his sound further disturbed by the ambient Halloween music in the room, it was an uncommon soul that could fail to be moved by it. Even Gall listened quietly, her expression slack.

"For your brothers," said Derik. "For Skepnadth. And for us." He looked around and chuckled. "Normally someone would offer a toast at this point, but I'm already toasted!"

Gall rewarded him for the terrible joke with a punch on the shoulder. "You maniac. Eat your, uh, I think that blob thing is 'Fried Ecto Cooler'."

For the moment, Jenni stood quietly, contemplating.

(( "Song for Petiron," from the Pern album Sunset's Gold. Derik may have taken it just a hair faster than the recording. Oh, and yes, fried Ecto Cooler is a real thing. Don't ask me how, but I heard of it on Brad Tries at some point.

(( ∗checks off RP Goal: Get Derik to Sing∗ Woot.))

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