Why does the Caged Pixie Sing? [M] [Alegretto]

[Zane]

Twas a nice spring mid-afternoon, the sun wasn't too overbearing and there was a light breeze. Today was the kind of day that you would stop to nap under a tree while you listen to birds sing in their tweety little voices. Or if you were the particular traveling salesmen that was traveling due east from small town to small town to hawk his goods that he legally and, or, illegally obtained. you could sit in the steersman's seat on the covered carriage and listen to the vulgar screaming of a pixie he found on the morning after the last full moon, nearly two weeks prior.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE USELESS FUCKING TRASH!" the little sprite shouted at the top of her little lungs, which was surprisingly quiet. Ahira could be heard clearly at maybe fifty feet. Anything beyond that and it was exponentially harder to understand just who, or what, was yelling.

"Oh hush you!" the salesman shouted at Ahria, "We will be coming into town soon and maybe if you would shut yer yap, you and I could be rid of each other." the salesman wanted nothing more to be rid of that god awful pixie, her incessant screaming had cost him sleep, buys, and very nearly, his freedom. He glanced over at the cheap iron birdcage he had her in. If she wasn't sold in this next town, the birdcage could be found in the bottom of a river.

[Alegretto]

The beauty of the day was lost on one traveler along the lightly wooded road. Part of that was the racket that he and his cohorts created. Somehow, the noise of two wooden bodies creaking and churning along the path was not an endearing one. Not that Logas cared.

He walked blankly along the trail, followed by a pair of what appeared to be wooden men. The golems were loaded down with heavy packs containing more wood, certain metals, and other useful implements. All the tools of Logas' trade.

It was that very subject that he was contemplating when the carriage came over a low hill behind him. He didn't hear it at first, between his own introspection and the curious sound that his golem's made it was tough to hear anything, but once it had gotten sufficiently close the foreign rattling behind him registered in the golem makers mind.

He turned slowly, as if with great reluctance, to identify the source of the noise. The carriage was close up him and his creations at that point, close enough that it had to slow down, and the driver shouted at Logas and his posse, "Hey, you there, get outta the way!"

Sullenly, the golem maker gave the commands to his creations. "Dullard, Dimmy, get off the road."

The two golems turned on their heels and marched off of the dirt path, allowing the carriage passage. Logas was about to follow them when he heard another odd sounds. A faint high-pitched whining noise. It seemed to be getting louder as the carriage approached.

A few more yards told him for sure that the sound was originating from the carriage. It sounded almost like a tiny voice.

How odd. His curiosity piqued, and his morose mood now directed at the driver who had shouted at him, Logas stood quite deliberately in the road in the carriage's way. With a curse, the man at the reins slowed down the vehicle forced the horse to come to a stop a few yard away from the golem maker.

"What'ya think you're doing!?" he shouted at Logas.

The golem maker, holding in a petty smile, answered the man's question. "Just satisfying my own curiosity. What's that odd noise coming from your carriage? Sounds almost like a tiny voice."

The driver suddenly became even more hostile than he had before. "What's it to you!?" he asked with a nasty tone.