[ At his words, the pads of her fingers pause upon the strings of the harp, stilling any sustained vibrations; and if he should have the eye for it, the breeze that's stirring the bare branches of the trees just above her head fades away. The girl glances up where she sits, looking him over once with keen eyes, a moment taken to assess if he is of any immediate threat. Seeing that he's doing exactly the opposite-- that is, offering help-- her countenance softens a bit, although the pout remains. ]

I cannot remember how to play next notes to the song. [ She explains, looking at the instrument. ] They elude me like a clever barn mouse to a tomcat. [ Zelda sighs, setting the instrument down on her lap. ] There is a technique, but... perhaps my fingers are simply not long enough? [ Weh, being a kid has all sorts of short comings. When will she be a grown-up??? ]