The first few drops of the summer rain were a welcome change for her parched soul. She tasted the sterling gems sent forth by heaven itself upon the tip of her tongue. The melody that burst through the glade from her now rejuvenated chords, exemplified honeyed richness. The voice made mademoiselle lark blush ten shades scarlet in her bower. The stage was set–teal green skies decorated with lavender lightning bolts, and a thundering audience of hovering black storm clouds, who watched with charmed attention as she performed her first stage show.