Grim sits at his piano, a tired look on his face. He sighs, rubbing his temples. He hears the sound of his wife’s footsteps. He cranes his neck, his neck extending and looping around to face his wife.

She’s in her guise, a version of Audric. She comes up beside him, shifting back into her original appearance.

“I’m trying to write a new song? What might you want, Cresil?” Grim asks, his voice gruff and full of irritation.