The Tyrant alpha
A sweet female’s voice chimes in on the chorus.
It’s a pretty tune, lovely and simple.
I don’t know how I started the music—I don’t think I tapped anything—but it’s comforting.
I tuck the buds back in my ears. The trailer noise disappears again, replaced by humans singing about early May—wrens and bulbs and chirping birds at daybreak.
If I could pick, it’s the song I would’ve chosen. By the end, I’m humming along.
The song is followed by another, a different singer, different instruments, but similar to the first. Happy and sweet and about growing things.
Hot Chapters