Thump — 
" Oh!.. Uhm.."
His brow slightly furrowed — his shoulders lifting along with he chest — as his eyes slightly narrowed at the response; a kind of response that he's never received before today. Huckle wasn't sure if he should take his words as an insult or a Compliment... But at the end of the day, Captain did have a point and Huckle Thought of the
perfect solution!
" Yes! I-I have something!"
About his Harp:
His so called "Harp" looked Irregular, having a body like a Violin and yet keys like some sort of Frankenstein piano, the Hammers rubbing up against the Thick and Dense strings; Waiting for the pressure of the young Badger's hand. It was freshly waxed, or at least it was clean enough to shine in the light of Jeshal's office, rendering the Rare Creature as a caring musician — well, at least towards his instrument; he's not
too sure about the people on the ship itself
---
Huckle let out a Soft Sigh, giving him a soft nod as he reached back into his basket, keeping the Stringed Beast on his lap. He rummages through fresh and tropical fruits until his paw comes to a stop, pulling out a Long bow — it's strings Thick and White like they've been barely used — and places it on the string. The Badger's paws grip tightly along the wooden stick, letting his thumb rub up against the Leather. He lets out a soft sigh
" Please don't fuck this up.. Not right now at least - I'm begging you, Wintertide" He softly whispered under his breath, breaking his short gaze with Jeshal and looking down at the curved bow slightly shaking inside of his paws. Huckle grips the strings tightly and revs his bow along the strings like a Chainsaw; Loud, Quick, and yet a Satisfying strike against the Dark, Burnt tool.
He started to play, his ears slightly twitching as the tune played in his head; Building upon itself with each noise.
A Cymbal, A Drum, A Chorus behind the Lead — a True song.
He pictured himself in a Fancy hall, dressed the part with a Fancy get-up that would make even the Dapperest of Aristocrats jealous of his Beauty. Each stomp of the Lord and Ladies on the floor creating some fresh.. fresher then any fruit he's picked in his life
---
It went on for a while, nearly a minute or two of being lost in his mind — wherever that Big and Precious organ of his was — before his eyes opened again, a Soft and Weak gaze meeting the Vulpine. His breath hitched:
" I've really done it this time," he thought.
" What was I thinking? I'm not alone like I'm used to, I'm in front of someone — someone with importance at that... My act was damn near suicide"
Huckle slowly lifted his head, placing his bow in his lap as he rubbed the strings of his instrument, swallowing down a hunk of spit like he was left Thirsty on a Desert Isle.
" I-I'm sorry about that, Mr. Jeshal. I-I didn't mean to get so.. In-tense?.."
He's dug his own grave at this point, might as well lay in it
