Emotion threatened to spill over, wrought by resonating echoes of musical heights transcendent. She vowed she would not abide weeping tonight.
She left the tent and stilled, watching for movement. Seeing none, she crept toward the silvery copse of trees isolating the camp from shore, slipped soundlessly through and made her way down to the water, not stopping until she was knee-deep in the roiling surf, frigid and frothy.
Face upturned, defiant, she glared at a stoic moon, gripping both fists painfully at her sides. Tears fell unabated, accompanied by breaking waves and sweet tones lingering yet in beauty-stung memory.
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