“Mayke id simple
T'last your whole life long.
Dun worry is nod good e’nufffor anyone else to hear. Jus,” the ten year old signed along with the lyrics. They reached into their lap to find a potato shaped instrument. Their normally quiet lips played the same notes as they swing their legs back and forth.
They found it out in the forest one day and had become rather adept at playing it. Out in the forest, in the leaves, among the breeze they felt like someone in a fairy tale. They withdrew it from their lips after the first chorus. 𝓕risk’s 𝓸carina’s lowered to their chest and they run their fingers along the holes. “Jussingasong,” all of the words ran into one another.
Their voice isn’t nearly as clear as the instrument. In fact it’s practically nonexistent. Frisk’s voice always fails them around others or when it truly matters. They rely heavily on their hands. Pointer fingers touch their thumbs each time a new note leaves. They mumble, “La la la la la.” The notes are repeated a few times.
They seem to be truly enjoying themselves. It’s rare for them to make any true verbal noises whatsoever. They do however pause once they realize they aren’t alone.
Upon being approached they perk. It’s somebody new! Somebody new that’s never heard their voice. What if they think they’re weird now they can’t speak properly? The human’s thoughts race away unable to catch up with them they instead stare at the stranger.
There’s nothing to be afraid of. They’re naturally outgoing and eager to befriend anyone but talking is a completely different kettle of fish. Nevertheless. As they had an audience they wold do their best to entertain. Like their uncle said, the show must go on!
“Jus, ju-juh. Juh-uh-juhsss, s-s-s-s-s,” there’s an audience now and a tightness surfaces in their chest. Bright red eyes lock with a pair of yellow ones. The stutter’s more pronounced until the words become little more than garbled noises and the kid seems to shrink. “Mmmm,” they glance away shyly.
The instrument’s brought back up to their lips and they carry on through that instead and do their best to look happy.
These woods were not their home.
Niko had only just woken here, lost and confused in a place they did not recognize. It was understandably panic-inducing, and so they’d wandered for some time now, looking for anything that they recognized. But... it was all trees, thick woods of the sort that did not exist around their village. Where were the wheat fields, the small buildings, their...
They weren’t sure. They couldn’t remember everything, just bits and pieces, a blur of information that left them uncertain. The one thing that’d clicked easily was their name, but it wasn’t enough to go off of. Not nearly enough. They were so caught up in musing that they lost their balance, tripped and tore their pants, but that was all right.
Their... someone could repair it. Someone of great importance, they were sure. She always had before.
Thankfully, they could hear a noise-faint, unsteady, but most likely another person. It was enough to get them to jump up from where they’d sat, where they’d covered their face and started despairing, and run towards the sound to see who or what it was. What they found... no, who they found was not who they were hoping for.
It was another child. One they did not recognize, but hopefully someone willing to help them; Niko paused where they were when the lyrics died off, raising one hand hesitantly in greeting. Oh... had they startled them? That hadn’t been their intention.
This wasn’t awkward at all, oh no.
A moment passed where they considered carefully, and then they opted to sit down quietly, fold their hands in their lap and listen a bit before continuing. “You’re really good at playing that, you know. I didn’t mean... to surprise you, or...” What could they do to make this easier?
Oh-- there was a thought, something vaguely recollected amidst the mess. They turn some and pluck a blade of grass, trying to remember how this worked. Didn’t they have to hold it in their hands just right? They do so, bring it up to their lips and blow, but... no, the sound was off, so they tried again with a new one.
Ah, there it was. It wasn’t nearly the same, no, but they kept plucking bits of grass, practicing with different sounds before lowering their hands and giving the stranger a hopeful smile.
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