((Reserved for Reaver! I\'m sorry this took so long... FORGIVE ME))
It was early afternoon, third day of the week. The sun was high in the sky, yet the weather was mild and sweet. There were only a few clouds in the sky so the people of Oberon had nothing to worry about. Everyone was bustling about, talking about their mornings and what they would like to do later on. Unfortunately, there was also gossiping but the little bard paid no attention. It was none of his business to hear and after all, it was all quite trivial. He didn’t care who slept with who… it was not his or anyone’s business… except the ‘offenders’ of course. Naturally, the bard did not speak these opinions aloud. They were his alone. And anyway, it wasn’t as if anyone was going to agree with him. So many people loved gossiping, it was almost as if they had nothing better to do. A little sigh left the young man, not out of spite but rather… boredom. He was bored with the people’s attitudes. They were always the same. Oh, how he wished he was back in Macedonia. Now that was a country with diversity, it possessed a sweet charm unlike Oberon. The bard sighed again, lifting a hand to scratch his chin. The last time he visited Macedonia was a few years ago but to him, it felt like a million light years. Hopefully, by this time next year, he will be back in the beloved country. That is, if uncle approved. The man had to yet to inform his uncle of his decision.
Through the bustling paths, Peperuda walked with an oud hoisted upon his back. To soothe his irritation and disappointment, he would play a song. A song he learnt from Macedonia. It had no words but it still told a story, one of which Peperuda was quite fond of. Even though he was not a religious man, he was still fascinated with the Muslim religion. That isn’t to say that Peperuda is dying to convert! He is fine with what he believes and finds it rather irritating when people attempt to convert. It’s a waste of time because they could be doing some better, like healing and helping the sick. The bard sighed yet again. Peperuda found that sighing was becoming a nasty habit and so he vowed so stop. He didn’t like people who were pessimistic all the time. Peperuda sat down and placed the oud in his lap, strumming a few chords. The beloved oud was in good condition but it looked a bit battered … but then again, it all depends on what it sounds like right?
Peperuda decided he would play a song about \'traveling alone.\' It was one of his favourites. It was a beautiful piece but the man wondered, would they like it? The people of Oberon? It was quite an exotic piece… and well, Oberon is anything but exotic. Resisting the urge the sigh, Peperuda began to play…