Atthis smiled, "Who else did you think it was?"
Sappho half-shrugged, "I don't know... I was hoping I'd find out when I find the source."
Atthis tilted her head. Confusion and curiousity painted her face, "You mean to say... you stepped into the Dark Forest without a plan?" Atthis scanned her from head to toe, "And without any protection?"
Sappho pursued her lips, the embarrassment visible on her face, "More or less..."
Atthis had an amused smile, but it disappeared before Sappho could blink.
"Will you play it again?" Sappho asked, surprising herself by her sudden courage. What was she doing? She didn't know who this Atthis was! She could be a serial killer or worse, this could be a huge trap, and Atthis was some kind of accomplice. Maybe she was a ghost, seeking revenge for her killer. . . And she didn't know what a 'ghost' was. A flower? What an odd woman!
Sappho rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. She was thinking about it too much. It was her fault, anyway. She followed the music without thinking.
Atthis caressed the flute. She looked at it in awe, like it was her first time seeing it, "Aren't you going to ask who I am first?"
Sappho's brows furrowed. What did she mean about that? "Who you. . . are?"
Atthis smiled, "Never mind that. Do you really want to hear me play?"
Sappho nodded quickly.
"Alright," Atthis laughed.
She began to play.
