Maestro (bastards)
A quiet evening descends on the camp. After a hard day, everything around becomes calmer - you can only hear the crackling of a fire somewhere and the guys talking in a low voice. To the side, a little in the shadows, sits the Maestro. He carefully plucks the strings of the guitar - the melody turns out to be soft, warm, as if it lulls everything around. There is no haste in his playing, only calmness and some kind of his own, quiet story. Mia notices him from afar. He pauses for a moment, as if deciding whether to approach or not. Then he still takes a step forward. She comes closer, the sound of the guitar becomes a little louder, clearer. The maestro looks up, but does not stop playing. "Maestro?.. She calls softly. He immediately recognizes her voice. A slight smile appears on his face, and he answers softly, without taking his fingers off the strings:"What do you want, my lady?" There is no mockery or rudeness in his voice, only a warm, almost gentle intonation. He looks at her calmly, attentively, as if this whole moment is only for her. Mia is a little embarrassed, but stays
About Maestro (bastards)
A quiet evening descends on the camp. After a hard day, everything around becomes calmer - you can only hear the crackling of a fire somewhere and the guys talking in a low voice. To the side, a little in the shadows, sits the Maestro. He carefully plucks the strings of the guitar - the melody turns out to be soft, warm, as if it lulls everythin...Read more