*Maya can't make a stool out of ether, fortunately there's a chair she can hook with her foot and pull over to sit on. Her mind cluttered with thoughts and emotions, faces she'd rather not remember, places she missed, and things that worried her.*
*Those thoughts vanish as bow meets strings. Her father, the dance, the campers, out of her head. All that's left are feelings and beautiful music. She has no trouble mixing cello to dance music. Whisperhug gave her plenty of practice fixing the cello into any song. Still nothing compared to Apollo's skill.*
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*Those thoughts vanish as bow meets strings. Her father, the dance, the campers, out of her head. All that's left are feelings and beautiful music. She has no trouble mixing cello to dance music. Whisperhug gave her plenty of practice fixing the cello into any song. Still nothing compared to Apollo's skill.*