Sapphire Ambassadors

Hamada steps through the carefully manicured hedge maze. The anticpation had been driving her wild, so at this point, any distraction was welcome.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone
Jin would dance with her ghosts
The ones she had lost and the ones she had found
And the ones who had loved her the most…"

It's idle ryhming, keeping her mind active as she walks.

Not too much of the unicorn's poem had come to life when she heard a sound coming from the hedge. Smooth and sharp, but also warm and flowing. Someone within the maze was entertaining with their Shakuhachi.

Hamada winds her way over until she finds the source of the music. A expertly made up Scorpion woman is sitting the garden playing.

"That's a pretty melody. Does it have lyrics yet?"

The song had finished and a non-descript samurai of some sort or another asked a question, rather forwardly.

A Unicorn? No, Ameiko decided. She had seen enough ronin already to pick them out by this point. And she was still far too young to have that experience.

She stood up, holding her flute in both hands, clasped in front of her. "I am not the song writer, it is an old tune called called Wildlings, I am uncertain it is meant to have lyrics", she admitted. "I am Bayushi Ameiko, graduate of the one hundred stances dojo and yojimbo of Otomo Gaitsu, to whom do I have the honor of speaking to this afternoon?" She offered enough of a bow to not be insulting.

Hamada bows. "Tsi Hamada, at your service. I can try to whip up some lyrics if you like, but I'm afraid they are likely going to be a drinking song. They tend to be affordably catchy."

...interesting.

"Thank you, but no, I don't believe a drinking song would do for that particular tune", Ameiko answered, avoiding the frown she felt was needed. "Perhaps we can settle on something else that fits your taste?"

"I can riff you if like" Hamada clears her throat:

"I'd a pluck a fair rose for my love
I'd a pluck a red rose blowin'

Love's in my heart,
I'm tryin' so to prove
What your heart's knowin'

I'd a pluck a finger on a thorn

I'd a pluck a finger bleedin'
Red is my heart, wounded and forlorn
And your heart needin'

I'd a hold a finger to my tongue
I'd a hold a finger waitin'
My heart is sore, until it joins in song"

Ameiko didn't understand love songs.

"Oh that's quite nice", she claimed, what she really felt was a mystery, perhaps even to her. "You should be careful of roses, it seems."