You were sat on the grass of a forest, your lute in your hands and a notebook on your lap. You were testing lyrics for a song, and the muse of this specific melody had just stumbled upon your spot. Astarion watches as you begin to sing and play "I'm starvin, darlin, let me put my lips to something" your voice is ethereal and it carries through the trees to astarion "let wrap my teeth around the world.." the words remind astarion of someone...specific. Himself.