[Detention Wing]

"Right." Raril sighs and sits back down on the cot before pulling a small silver harmonica frm his pocket. After inspecting the little instrument for a moment, he licks his lips and starts to play. The music is sad and dark, its notes ringing with despair, loss, and hopelessness.

The Drow notices the presence, but keeps playing. He hoped to seem like he hadn't noticed anything, while subtely weaving magic into his song to heighten his senses.

(Goodnight Happy)