He sneaks in.
A flash of orange. Whip of blue. A whiff of vanilla from dark skin. Piper.
She runs her hands through his thick black hair and enjoys the feel of his red eyes upon her.
They share a kiss before scampering off, her barely holding in giggles. They are at the edge of a cave. Piper tells him she has something to show him, and she pulls crystals on lengths of string out of the backpack. He scoffs. More rocks. She hooks the strings onto her fingers, and she plays. And he is mesmerized by the lovely tunes that float sweetly from those hands.
Look, I can make them sing.
And she does. Pulls on strings, manipulates the crystals.
And they sing.
The crystals go up and down, and she pulls the strings, and they hum and dip and soar. Melodies intertwine as her fingers work overtime, twisting the strings and making the shining rocks vibrate and ricochet off one another.
Ping, hum, sigh.
He is entranced. Colors dance in his eyes, and song reverberates in his ears. She has stopped, but the notes ring on in his mind. The crystals hang limp.
I bet even Cyclonis can't do that. She'd probably consider it trivial.
No, she can't. And yes, she would. Until she realizes how much it can do.
She laughs and twists her hand once. The rocks float up once more, and again he is captivated by the sound. More deadly than any siren song.
She stops, and snaps her fingers to jerk him out of his reverie. Smiles.
You're so out of it.
I'd follow you anywhere.
He takes her hands.
The hands.
Of the Pied Piper.