Seph smiled at her, all confidence and internal hesitation. "What sort of music?"

"I want a music of the chambers there," Aeroa repeated simply. She uncurled her body, making it a bit more parallel to the ground; her limbs extricated themselves silently, though with the gleaming flesh of her Seph had expected squelchy, squishy noises.

"I never knew you were a fan of music," Seph said as Aeroa lifted a forehand to one of the rami curling from her brow. She stroked one of them, the thinnest, for a moment, her claws making the fine hairs tremble and rise, loosening the grip of it before finally she tugged. There was a poof of rose-colored, blood-like smoke.

"For my ssibling," she explained, and held the rami out to him. Seph grimaced, but took it. As soon as he gripped it, it squirmed, and he was so startled he nearly dropped it. It was like holding a cord of muscle.

"Capture a mussic from the chamberss of Tenor and bring it back here," Aeroa instructed. "I will forgive you thiss offensse then. And do not try to flee," she warned, "for I will know," and the rami wriggled with emphasis.

"Alright," Seph said, grimacing even further. He began to stick the thing in his pocket, but it caught onto his belt beforehand and looped around, and refused to unloop itself even with a strong tug. Cautiously, Seph recalled his meager study and then closed his eyes, remaining very still.

Soon after he felt a brush of wind, and opened his eyes to a cavern that was even darker than it was before without the color of the dragon there. He swallowed, and adjusted his scarf, and rushed away.