Ashton Love Atop A Hill

The bard quietly dances, twirling and spinning, spinning, spinning until his bottle is thrust forward.  He holds the position, his body tense with practiced precision, arm extended, eyes focused.  After a moment he stands tall and shakes his arms out, drinking deeply.

"Hrm...  How long is she going to rest?"

He looks to his companion and shrugs, continue to dance and spin quietly in the dawn