Faolan watches him fuss over the dog, shifting his hold on Bridei slightly as the little dragon lets out a little noise of contentment. "I'll see what I can do," he says, quirking an eyebrow at the other man, slightly. Faolan settles back in his chair after a moment, running a hand down the length of Bridei's back as he turns to glance at the harp once more. It is a good instrument. Its sound is pure and true - everything he could ask for, in a harp.

"Be glad that a bard's token instrument is the harp and not a flute or drum. I'd like to think that harps have a good sound to them. They can be gentle when they need to be and harsh when the composition requires it. And this harp is exceptional. I suppose the only suffering you may have to endure would be my playing. And perhaps my singing. You were 'lucky' enough to happen upon both at once," he comments, idly poking fun at and critiquing himself at the same time, "despite my attempts at secrecy." Truth be told, there's nothing wrong with his singing voice in the least. If anything it has gotten better with age, even if he has hardly been practicing with it. Faolan would hardly admit that himself, however.