Re: log: dietre a. & daniel w.
As the music played, Sieglinde's nervousness was soothed. If her master was at the keyboard, then there was nothing amiss, and she soon settled, laying her head on her fore-paws to listen and watch by his feet. Those deep brown eyes remained on the stranger who did not smell like a man (though he was in the shape of one) but of something other. A predator, but not a threat. Maybe.
Dietre did not quite know what to make of Daniel's response to his playing. There was no praise nor critique, but there was interest, of some sort, at least. Perhaps he had not been given enough to form an opinion, Dietre could respect that. Asking for more could only mean that he did not hate what he heard right off the bat.
"Um... My own work?" A silly question, what else would Daniel want him to play? Coloring a bit at his own foolishness, Dietre did not wait for an answer, he quickly turned his attention back to the keys, rummaged through his mental catalog of pieces, and began to play once more. Another somber melody, longer than the first, but much slower in pace.
"...I don't really strive to be a composer..." He found himself explaining when he had finished. "The music I write is more out of necessity than enjoyment. ...For pleasure, I prefer to play the work of others."