Donald stopped as he was about the enter the barracks.  He could hear the sound of a flute coming from somewhere over near the stables.  Whoever was playing, steady of working, was asking for some real trouble.  He paused and thought for a moment, before deciding to head back to the stables to see what was going on.  After all, he could always fall asleep on the hay.<br/><br/>Tucking his cheese and bread into his pack, he headed back.  Once he was in the stable, did not see anyone at first, and the sounds of the flute had stopped.  He walked along looking into each paddock, until he came upon one which was occupied by more than a mere horse.<br/><br/>Laying across the her horse was the outlander lass.  Her hair and white dress spilled down over her horse making her appear as a figure out of an old story, or a fable.  For a moment, he did not even realize who she was, but then he recognized her face.  Dangling from one of her hands was a long flute.  Ah, here was the culprit.<br/><br/>He did not wish to disturb her, though he could not for the life of him figure out what she was doing.  It was her horse, to be sure, but why wasn't she at breakfast with the others?  He sighed and tried to figure out if he should speak, or simply return to the barracks.  After a minute, he spoke.<br/><br/>"That was lovely playin' lass.  I ain't hear the like since me Uncle Liam was alive."