The brave and valiant corporal, standing his authoritative ground in front of the many lines of monochromatic soldiers before the majesty of the palace. With his golden baton hoisted mid-air, he was ready to lead them around the perimeter of the pristine courtyard for the entire kingdom’s spectacle once the rapid pressing of slender fingers had begun, the trumpeting call for him to raise his head proudly with honour and pomp as the battalion followed suit.
The song of unity and togetherness.
Soldiers - young men and women, bound together by a common goal or duty and in doing so, placing everything they had on the line to ensure that by the end of their life’s journey, they had fulfilled the dreams they had wished to achieve before enlisting into their program. It was no different in her own case, really. She may not have chosen to enlist herself as a member of this killing game, but rather, she was happy that she had allies in her stead, wishing to assist in allowing peace and harmony to reign as opposed to such cruelty that was being imposed and threatened by their ursine captors.
The Military Polonaise, composed by none other than Frederick Chopin. Her favourite piece at this very moment to which reminded her of her reason to fight against despair.
Ever the dreamer she may have been as she played, being able to transport herself into worlds outside of this one. Albeit there was physical limitations with the cage looming over the grounds, her mind was still free and in unison with her music. With music, pictures could be created and life could be given to them through a simple melody.
Rhythmic counts of three played in her head until the march had finished. A brief silence, and the king herself could be seen standing within the doorway, as if arising to give a round of applause.
She gently rubbed her violet hues to dispel of the image now that the song had drawn to a close. Everything had disappeared - the fanfare provided by her melody, the movement of the soldiers thus, had halted. Before her had remained the monarch in flesh and blood.
A small stammer upon realization, and she found herself frozen. What was she to do? A king, right before her? In seeing how any action was portrayed by anyone found in this predicament in anything that she had read or watched, she found herself automatically genuflecting before her visitor in respect before her sudden arise from the ground.
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
