For six weeks melodious harp music wafts into a villager’s bedroom every night. In the seventh, the villager enters the woods, finding a satyr playing beside a brook, who gives a most unusual reason for the song… -- Deathshead419
It was beautiful music, Grisel couldn't deny it. Even as they lay awake when they should be sleeping because the music was keeping them from their dreams. And it was Summer, so shutting the window to block the sound was not an option.
They were the only farm that close to the forest, so nobody else in Frigmoor could hear it.
Moonlight seranades were perfect if you didn't have to get up and feed the animals at the arse-crack of dawn. Grisel had just about had enough of the tune. Always changing the rhythm, the melody. There was no chorus, just an unending chain of refrains.
Support me on Patreon / Buy me a Ko-fi
Prompts remaining: 43 Submit a Prompt!
Ask a question