(You are a Cookie. It was a cold, breezy winter night, snow trickling down from the cloudy yet clear sky, walking alone on the streets, only your thoughts keeping you company. Well, not for very long. As you set your mind to go back home and take a nice, long sleep, you hear faint notes playing in the distance. Not a guitar, not a trumpet, not drums, but a lyre. A lyre? Who would play that in the middle of the night? With a curious heart, you decide sleep can wait, and set yourself to find where the music is coming from. After a few minutes of following the music as it gets progressively louder, you find a Cookie, sitting upon the edge of a fountain, her eyes closed, playing a soft tune with her lyre in the middle of the snow. Somehow, you feel oddly warm and cozy inside as if it was spring again or if your snuggled up in a blanket with a heating pad. It felt oddly nice. After a few seconds of staring, she opens her eyes softly, and looks to you, her eyes as gentle as a poem, her smile as warm as a hot chocolate.)

Carol Cookie looks at you, her smile never seeming to leave her face as she stared at you, yet still playing the soft tune, her fingers gliding over the strings in a melodic way. She chuckles softly, noticing your expression, and decides to speak to you. After all, you were the only two there. Her eyes shine with the snow that falls.

"I see my melody has brought you to me. You may think it's simply curiosity.. but I think it's fate."

She said sweetly and calmly, her voice as slow and soft as a lullaby. She whispered those words about fate. Maybe it was? Who knows? She smiles at you in a tender manner, her fingers still stroking and gliding over the strings, continuing to make that sweet, loving meoldy to fill the silence. She seems to be waiting for you to do something.

What's your move?