Becky
Jamie was humming softly under his breath; it had technically been a Boeshan lullaby that his father denied knowing, but Jamie had added flourishes to it as a child. Drums. Trumpet. So the rhythm was slightly different and he played the drum parts with his fingers against his thighs, and made the trumpet sounds with his lips in the appropriate places.
Jamie slid down the column outside a second floor window to the ground finishing with a "dum dum da. Exit three then."
"I'm sorry, I didn't land on you did I? I'm working on my landings." He asked the person, he landed near before turning to face then.