Sloan Character Development Prompts: Gifts

#45 Draw or write about your character receiving (or not receiving) a gift. Does your character like getting gifts? Do they dislike it? Do they not have anyone in their life who would give them a gift?
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It was hard for them to imagine a time when they didn’t have their guitar. At this point, it felt like an extension of themself. Not having the weight of it slung over their back as they traveled, always within reach of their callused fingertips if they wanted to play, would feel like a loss. And yet they hadn’t, in the grand scheme of things, even had it for all that long. But it was important to them, a prized possession if they ever had one. And Sloan would have never gotten it if not for the generosity of another.

 

While Sloan bought it themself, their guitar was still essentially a gift. It started when they were staying at a roadside inn they had found on their travels, the visit to this particular establishment being unintended and longer than usual on account of Sloan twisting their ankle during their recent trek and being forced to recuperate there. There they people watched, chatted, and listened to various bards tell tales and play their music. Mainly one bard, an older elven woman from the nearby town who seemed to spend more time at the inn than at her own home. 

 

At first, Sloan just watched and listened. The woman was very skilled at playing her guitar as well as singing. The patrons seemed to appreciate her, tossing a few coins here and there into the hat she placed by her feet. Yet the longer Sloan watched as the days passed, the more they noticed that most of the patrons seemed content to let the woman’s music fade into the background. Simply ambiance to their drinking and chatting and games of dice. And while there was no shame in Sloan’s mind at the idea that some music was just meant to make a space warm and lively, it was sad to see the old woman’s artistry go unnoticed. Her stories weren’t complex on the surface, but her wordplay and general use of language added depth to the otherwise simple tales. And her skill with the guitar, while not flashy by any means, could not be overstated. The longer Sloan listened, the more they realized how the way she played added to the story. Her music wasn’t just background for the tale she was telling or vice versa, they were woven together, inseparable.

 

After a few days, Sloan finally got the courage to approach the woman. While they liked talking to others, they felt strangely shy around the woman. She had been a quiet figure at the corner of the inn, who rarely spoke to anyone other than to order drinks or say a quiet thanks to those who offered her coin. Sloan was worried they would disturb her by trying to strike up a conversation, but the moment they did the older woman’s face lit up. Turns out she was quite talkative if given the chance.

 

Over the next week and a half, Sloan and the woman began to form a friendship. They learned her name was Greta and that she had lived in the nearby town all her life. She had always dreamed of traveling but never got the chance. She had to take care of her ailing parents for much of her adult life, and when they finally passed she couldn’t bring herself to leave behind their home. So she stayed in town and visited the inn to hear tales and tell the stories her parents once told her when she was little. 

 

Sloan was never good at talking about themself. Ever since traveling, they had made a habit of learning the tales of others but keeping their past close to their chest. But something about Greta made them open up, at least a little. They still shied away from telling the whole story of their past, but they told her most of it. Greta was a good listener.

 

It was on the day Sloan was preparing to leave that they ran into Greta in the taproom, surprisingly early for when she normally would show up to play. Greta, with little fanfare, handed Sloan a leather pouch of coins. Sloan, of course, tried to give it back. It was a much too generous gift, and a confusing one at that, but Greta insisted. 

 

“You’ve got the spark of music in your heart, I can tell,” Great said with a small wistful smile. “There is an old music shop in town. That’s my only stipulation with this gift, you gotta buy something that will keep that spark alive.”

 

Sloan still wanted to return the gift, but the way Greta spoke, and how she looked at them as she explained her reasoning, made them stop.

 

“Thank you,” they said, unused to such generosity from a stranger. Later that day, as they left the inn to continue their travels, they stopped at the music shop and bought a guitar. There they made a promise to one day come back to the inn and show Greta what they’d learned, and play her a song worthy of this gift.