Lys: The Foreign and the Familiar

Aithne blushed under the praise. "My father was- is- a bard in Eire. He began to teach me when my fingers could barely span the strings. I could have been a bard myself, if I chose, but instead I-" The words cut off. She had grown closer to Cathair in her time with the Guttersnipe, even though he was not there, even though she had not seen him in 10 years. To speak of him right now seemed wrong.

She started again. "The harps in my land are made differently. They sit so-" She moved her arm to demonstrate, "and are played with both hands." She looked up at him. "It is hard for me to play properly, one handed. Truth be told, before today I did not know such an instrument existed." Brow furrowed, she added, "In my ten years with the Romans I have never seen its like."

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