[color=f7976a][i]"To the sky revealed and to eastwards abound. To the land revered with fertile ground. Forever and ever will this song be... bad.[/i][/color]

Thema sighed. No matter what she wrote, no matter what she played, it was all the same. Just some pretty sounding words. Nothing important. Nothing original. Whatever she sang about was already sung by people generations before her. It wasn't really her feelings upon this land, either. In all honesty, she didn't care for it. Everything turned out to be so streamline, so to speak. Wake, work, sleep until you die. It was boring; she didn't want to become some sort of farmer or merchant, slaving away just to live. In all honesty, she just wanted to be remembered.

Thema placed her lute around her hips. She was supposed to be working, though, playing songs from tavern to tavern could hardly be called a job. It was infrequent that she would get a job playing at a tavern. It was enough to make ends meet. Barely.

Without much further thought, she left to go to wander the town once more, looking for any sort of muse.