Rym's cheeks blush a deep red as Cromthal offers to let him play, and they turn an even deeper red as he hears Cromthal's melodious voice. I can't compete with this... he thinks. I'm not learned enough... I'll bet a novice could play better than me. But how can I get out of it?
You can't, you fool.. You've gotten yourself into this mess, as you have gotten yourself into too many other messes to count in the past, and now you must pay the price. He hated it when his mind started having conversations with itself, it often made him look unsure or ignorant.
Rirrym notices that his clammy hands are wringing at his cloak, making the holes in the fabric even larger, and he forces his mind to clear so that he can unclench them. "I'd love to play with you, Cromthal, but I'm not sure what kinds of songs your people play. Do you prefer joyous or sad songs? With a quick or slow tempo?" Very good, fool.. his mind said to him. Now you've managed to stall for a few moments, but then he'll be expecting you to play with him and you'll make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of everyone. You'll have to leave for certain, then... Just when you'd been making friends, too.
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