Parting is such sweet sorrow, as a bard in my world once wrote. I hope your friend--and his muse--return ere long. Quite dull, travelling by oneself. [ He gives his bow a few taps to remove the excess rosin. ]

I'm not nearly so practiced, but there are certainly less formal styles. [ Sholmes lays bow to strings once more and, after a couple of false starts and muttered minced oaths, he finally manages a more spirited tune. Once he finds his flow, there's plenty of bobbing and foot-tapping to keep tempo. ]

Now imagine that accompanied by a jaunty bit of flute. Fit to inspire a jig, I daresay!