The young woman's ands reached up and tried her blue hair into a loose bun, and she looked down at the case that lay on the ground. November hadn't played her violin in quite a while, so it was time to start again. The now seventeen-year-old picked up her case, opened it, and took out her bow and violin.
She looked at the bow. Alright, there wasn't a lot of rosin, but there was enough. She would live, and she was sure that the strings wouldn't squeak or anything. She picked up the instrument and started playing slowly, just wanting to make sure that everything was in the correct tune.
She looked at the bow. Alright, there wasn't a lot of rosin, but there was enough. She would live, and she was sure that the strings wouldn't squeak or anything. She picked up the instrument and started playing slowly, just wanting to make sure that everything was in the correct tune.