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Finch relaxed her wings as she landed, grazing her claws across a pair of open strings.
Without a player and wanting of bow, Fiddle's strings sang out.
Finch twitched and lifted into the air. Then, calmed by a measure of silence, she rested on the strings without making a sound.
With a gleam in her eye, Finch flew upward. Delicate claws plucked the strings where she'd perched, producing a tinkling of consonant tang.
She twittered back, raising each note by a third.
When Fiddle failed to respond, Finch swooped down, landed, and lifted.
Time became a gentle dueling of duet.