/Morning/{Glory}

[Cerridwen Baine]

The stars where so bright last night, soon I will have been here for half a year. So many things are fading away,Ii can't remember much of anything anymore. I have my far off memories, but anything past a certain point, i just don't remember. She whispered to herself mentally as she walked along the river. She stretched out, her long body rippling as she stretched out even more. Her back arched up as she lifted up a leg and stretched back. She stood straight and then walked down the river for a little longer.

Her eyes where a decidedly lighter blue today. A sharp contrast to the dark color of her hair. Which she had pulled back in a tight raid today. She was wearing buckskin pants, a white shirt and a buckskin vest. She had her usual back Pack of healers supplies, and on a leather cord around her neck, she had her medicine pouch, with her most important items of all. She seemed to be a slight thing, oddly out of place for most of the people she was around a lot.

She had been living on John's ranch for almost six months now, ever since she came to Neverland. She played with the end of her braid now, as she walked along the river from the ranch, that slowly worked it's way into mermaid lagoon. She stopped to stare at the waters in front of her. Remembering to keep her distance in case of Merepeoples. She sat down at the edge of the water, and pulled out her flute from her bag.

Her eyes watched the water, as she hummed happily and began to play the flute. The music was light and airy, a beautiful tune meant to entice others to come and play. The morning light played over her features now as she played. It just might prove to be an interesting day.

[Diesel Amadeus]

Diesel had been floating down the current of the deeper part of the river on a whim, admiring the way the shadows of the leaves danced on the surface of the water and played with the light that trickled through. It truly was a beautiful day, even by the standards of the land-dwellers, and he could for once see why Naunet had loved it so. He found her curiosity and longing bubbling up inside him, and he allowed himself to drift towards the surface, his face breaking the thin lining that separated him from the sky. He peered out along the river, smooth where he swam, but rougher as it went along. But the current that owned it held no sway over Diesel. He was a large man, even as merfolk went, and he was very powerful. Many found him intimidating, and he could only find their reasons laughable.

There were things that many people didn't know about him, one being that he was a vicious humanitarian, and he was disgusted with the pain of others. He refused to stand idely by and watch those in pain either. So it was no surprise that through his empathic nature, he found his release often in the music of his flute. He kept it close to him on days such as these, where the changing shapes of the passing clouds inspired music with just as much harmony and variety.

As he allowed his eyes to roam the skies he was so far from under the ocean, he found himself drifting towards a faint melody that sprang lighty on the air towards him. He turned his great head, only to see a young indian girl sitting near the bank of the river, trilling away lightly on her flute. The sight made him smile, though he usually made nothing of passing humans. Her long braid swayed in the breeze at her back, and her sachel was slouched on the ground beside her.

Something about the tune she played brought the smile back, forcing him to pause and listen. He had always been curiously swayed by music, even his own. One flick of his great tail brought him closer to her, and as he approached he realized suddenly how small she truly was. She was slight in both build and frame, and he felt that if he truly had the desire to snap her in half it wouldn't have been very hard. But Diesel was not one of the dark merpfolk that the other inhabitants of this strange island feared. Although they did fear him. His broad shoulders broke the current in the water, causing the river to divert course and babble on around him in irritation. He might have been a giant stone embedded in the ground for all it moved him. He allowed himself to be in her sight before he spoke. His deep voice had the charm of catching people off their gaurds at times. He nodded in acknowledgement, the smirk still on his face.

"You play beautifully." he complimented, very formal with the little bow of his head that followed. He had always been that way. Diesel was always very curtious, correct, and polite. Even when angry. He held onto his composure as if it were something very dear to him.

[Blitz Von Krieg]

Walking along the river, in no more than his brown boots, pants, and puffy white shirt - a rapier and pistol at his waist - Blitz was enjoying the peaceful day. It had been a while since his last trip to the river, that was for sure. Once again though, he had his fiddle with him. Pulling the bow across the strings, he found himself a rythm and began to play as he sang an old Irish song.

"Oh father, why are you so sad,
on this bright Easter morn?
When Irishmen are proud and glad
Of the land where they were born."
"Oh, son, I see sad mem'ries view
Of far-off distant days,
When, being just a boy like you,
I joined the old brigade.

Where are the lads who stood with me
When history was made?
Oh, gra mo chree I long to see
The Boys of the Old Brigade.

In hills and farms the call to arms
Was heard by one and all,
And from the glens came brave young men
To answer Ireland's call.
'Twas long ago we faced the foe,
The old brigade and me,
But by my side they fought and died
That Ireland might be free.

Where are the lads who stood with me
When history was made?
Oh, gra mo chree I long to see
The Boys of the Old Brigade

And now, my boy, I've told you why
On Easter morn I sigh
For I recall my comrades all
From dark old days gone by,
I think of men who fought in glens
With rifles and grenade
May Heaven keep the men who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade..."

It was then that he noticed the sound of a flute and decided to match it with his fiddle, quickly doing so and falling right along in line with it. He could tell he was getting closer by the sound, but he wasn't exactly looking for the person that was playing. Of course, he did happen to stumble upon her and eased off on the fiddle as he noticed the merman. A glance to the merman, then to the girl, and he spoke. "What he said." He smiled and nodded to the merman.