Post by highlander on Jun 14, 2006 9:54:32 GMT -5
Druid walked, or more like limping, into his room and sat on the bed. He looked around hazily for his fiddle which was luckily on the floor beside his bed. He winced with pain as he picked up the case and laid it on the bed. Opening the case druid looked at the fiddle, almost reverently. The body of the fiddle was made out of cherrywood, its red hues shone like a fire. Playing the fiddle is like revealing his soul, each song told of how his heart felt, so most of the time he just played it for himself. It was so tempting, he wanted to play so badly so he picked it up, gritting his teeth. Right befoe he was about to play he heard footsteps coming...