Lizard's story

This the the story told by the lizard when loresinging is performed on it. **** represents when a verse was sung.

****

As you string the verses of your song together, you feel the familiar rush of exhilaration run up your spine. The melody blends with each syllable and phrase, and sends waves of deeper impressions to your mind like the touch of something beyond the physical plane, something mystical and eternal. You can almost see the ribbons of energy circling the lizard, probing its small body with the tender touch of musical magic. However, as the last strains of your composition fade, you have enticed nothing from the lizard other than an expression of consternation in its eyes.

****

Suddenly, the lizard leaps up, clinging to your face with all four feet! Its eyes peer into your own from a distance of about an inch. You gingerly extract its painful little claws from your scalp and neck, but not before the little monster has given your nose a thorough lick.

As you hold the gold and green lizard, unable to restrain a murderous glare, it cocks its head innocently, and gives you an affectionate little huff. What else is there to do, other than pet the danged thing?

****

Watching the gold and green lizard carefully (in case you need to clamp down a hand to prevent incoming projectiles), you sing to the creature, the underlying magic of your melody giving the strains an added dimension of harmony. The lizard seems to be listening attentively, cocking its head to each side and slowly swinging its tail to and fro in time to the cadence. Pleased, you pick up the volume, encouraging the lizard's participation.

The lizard gazes steadily at you, the facets of its little eyes glowing with interest. Then, almost imperceptive at first but growing by the moment, you hear a high tone riding at least an octave above your song in perfect harmony. As you notice your lizard swaying with the music, you realize the creature is signing with you, its voice as pure and crystalline as the finest bell you've ever heard.

****

As your song ends, you listen as the lizard's vocals fade away. Gazing at it in bemused wonder, you see its eyes sparkle. Deep inside where the secret of your music resides, you experience the feeling of shared wonder and know it for truth. For the message of your song cannot be doubted any more than you can question the joyful look in your little lizard's eyes.

****

You raise your song again, trying to glimpse anything more about the wriggling gold and green lizard in your hands. It turns its head up to you and stares, as if daring you to keep on restraining it at the risk of life and limb. It's a cheeky little varmint, to be sure.

Your melody is true and compelling, and you can see it surrounding the lizard like a web of coiling ribbons. The hues glisten as they turn and twist, leaving a hypnotic shimmer hanging in the air. Finally, the lizard notices and you see it eyeing the haloed traces curiously. And then, you begin to hear a faint whisper beneath the composition, a descant as light as a breath of air. It sings of sunlight on smooth stones, and the joy of racing through a tall stand of grass.

As you marvel at the images you are seeing, you notice the lizard is still staring up at you, but its expression has changed to one of bemusement. The gold and green lizard is now motionless, and you begin to hear its whisper, a string of images rather than words.

You see shadowy patterns move across the perfect surface of an egg, a barrier that protects against the terrors on the other side. Then, you feel a surge of desperation, a need to break free of the egg's perfect prison, and just after that, the rush of fresh air that ushers in an exquisite thrill of being alive.

A jumble of images floods in, the strange sensation of a possessing a long, articulate tail. The joy of celerity and the tight, longing feeling that means hunger. Suddenly, a new sensation arrives, a sublime, comforting feeling. It is more powerful than those of hunger and fear, harboring a poignancy as pervasive as deep love or the loss of it. At the same moment, you hear words spoken in a gruff voice, mumbled words of connection, and in a flash, recognize the words spoken by a gnome that first bound the lizard to you. And in that moment, you experience the bond the small creature feels toward you, a blind loyalty and pervasive dedication.

The strains of your song fade, taking along the puzzling images. You blink in an involuntary gesture of awe, and notice the gold and green lizard is still staring at you, now with a mischievous glint in its little eyes. Then, it turns its head away in a nonchalant sort of way, as if saying, "Oh that, its nothing." And you can't help but smile.