A willing student Ch 1.
#1 of Willing Student
They say to write from the heart right? Well at heart I'm a musician. What better way to have fun than to combine writing and music? I tired to stay true to my memories of college music classes and the people there. All names and faces (save one) have been changed. Enjoy!
Dalten sighed as he ran his thick fingers down his equine nose, his vision a little blurry due to fatigue. The sheet of music hadn't changed in the last 5 minutes, and he still didn't have any inspiration. The melody line was fine, the counterpoint was good, and the chording should sound nice, but this was only the opening. He hadn't gotten to the theme and variations part of his piece yet.
Ding
The message on his chat program distracted him as he glanced at it.
"Late night or early morning?"
He chuckled to himself as he looked at the clock. 3:45. He'd been up all night and hadn't accomplished a single bit of composition.
"Yes to both" he typed back to his brother Ken. Dalten had been the adventurous of the two, leaving hearth and home to study music composition at University. Ken had stayed on the farm and still worked and lived with their parents. He was happy in his simple life. Dalten just wish he could be as happy.
Ding
"I'm heading out soon to plow the north fields. Get some rest bro. Hugs"
Dalten sighed again. Even though he was tired, he knew he'd be unable to sleep. He was stuck and needed inspiration. Maybe a walk would do him some good. He lifted his huge equine form out of his desk chair and stretched, nickering slightly. His hooves clopped lightly on the wooden floor as he found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Thinking quickly he added a jacket to the mix. It was still brisk in the mornings after all.
He took the short elevator ride down to the ground floor of his apartment building in the historic district. Even though this town was the capital of the province, it went to bed early and slept late.
Dalten inhaled deeply, the chill air hitting his nostrils smelled sweet and clear. Turning to his right he made his way down the sidewalk making his way to the city park. There wasn't a car on the road, or a person in sight.
What am I going to do, that piece is set to premier in 5 days, and I'm not even half done yet. Hell, I'm not even 10 percent done.
The commission for a theme and variations for Piano and Violin was one that would pay well. Dalten wasn't a prolific composer, but he was very good. Enough so to be awarded highest honors when he graduated from the School of Music. Enough that his first Symphony was now a standard work on the new direction as to where music was headed. But he was suffering from "writers" block. The notes were there, he just had to arrange them.
The park wasn't overly large, but it was well shaded by trees, and the grass felt good against his hoves. He walked over to an old iron bench and sat down, staring at a statue of one of the city founders and let his mind go blank the soft breeze flowing against his chestnut mane.
**
"Is he dead?"
Dalten snorted and opened one eye. Several young canine pups were crowded around him. He must have fallen asleep. In the park.
Again.
The young pups moved back as he stretched and got up. Two of the youngsters looked disappointed that the "corpse" was no corpse and continued on their way, their friends running to catch up.
"You're going to be late to Mr. Milk's science class!" He shouted after them.
He'd accidentally fallen asleep in the park a few times during his night walks. They were good kids, if a bit morbid!
The sun wasn't very high yet. He'd probably only slept for several hours. A quick glance at his cell phone confirmed it was 7:30. He could smell the heavenly aroma of coffee coming from the corner shop across the street, and decided that he'd need something to get him through the day.
The shop bell tingled lightly as he entered the shop. The warm wood caught the morning sun and just glowed, giving the place a very relaxed feel. A young dalmatian was behind the counter looking at his phone. Dalten walked up to the counter while reading the menu board, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Holy Crap!"
Dalten looked down. The young spotted dalmatian had dropped his phone on the counter and was staring wide eyed at Dalten.
"Um...what?" Dalten rumbled. He'd been a bass since he turned 13. It had been embarrassing to be a gangly colt with a deep voice. He was still a little self conscious about it to this day.
"You're huge!" The dalmatian stuttered his clear blue eyes wide "Um...I mean...uh....what can I get you?"
"Regular coffee black, and a muffin please." Dalten pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed the now blushing barista the correct change. The dog handed him his cup and muffing shyly.
Dalten chuckled to himself. Equine folks weren't common. Equine folks from Clydesdale Stock were a rarity, especially in the city. It didn't hurt that he worked out as well. He'd been a gangly colt when his voice changed, today he was a huge, 8 foot tall, heavily muscled musician. That last part was what surprised people the most.
Dalten picked a very sturdy looking chair near a window and sat down to drink his coffee. The black liquid was sweetly bitter across his lips, the muffin moist and sweet as well. He let his mind wander for a bit.
"Sorry about that, by the way. We just don't get many farm folk here." The young dalmation said walking closer. Dalten noted the young man's name was "Rick" by his nametag.
He shook his mane in the negative. "Not a farmer actually. I come from farm stock, my brother's the one who's going to inherit the farm. I'm a musician really. Composer."
Rick's ears cocked forward at that. "Really? What instrument?"
"I can play most all, but my main one is pipe organ. No jokes now..." Dalten wagged a finger at the young pup.
Rick blushed and laid his ears back indicating he was thinking of making a joke. "Well I am too really, but I'm just studding performance at the university. Guitar."
Dalten leaned back making the chair groan a little. "Really? Are you studying under Dr. Carson or Dr. Wells?"
"Carson, I'm not a fan of Wells's style."
This conversation was getting interesting. The bell jingled announcing another customer. Rick apologized and headed back to the counter. Once finished with the customer Rick came back, his tail indicating his excitement.
"So you study under Carson. I studied under Wells for a bit to learn how to play guitar. Honestly I suck at it" he said wiggling his thick equine fingers. The young dalmatian chuckled. "Well, we all have our limitations. I can't compose or make up a song to save my life. My improvisational skills are.." here the young man screwed his face up into a perfect reflection of Dr. Carson "....about the worst I've ever heard young man. If it weren't for your skill in playing, I'd consider kicking you out of this school."
Dalten chuckled deeply in his chest. This young man was cute and funny. "High praise coming from him for sure. Wells told me I was lucky to be in a compositional study track and wouldn't have to try to be any better than a mere hack." The young dalmatian gave him a canine grin.
"Well Rick, thank you for the coffee, but I need to get back to composition. If you ever want to talk shop or something sometime, give me a call. I'm Dalten by the way."
The young man froze. "Dalten? As in Dalten Taylor? The composer....I mean THE composer Dalten Taylor?"
The look on the young dog's face cracked up Dalten. He whickered in merriment. "Now now, don't get all gushy at me. My ego is big enough as it is. I'm just a person. Just like everyone else. Like I said give me a call sometime."
Dalten stood up and handed his card to the stunned barista and smiled down at him.
"...sure...I will...um....bye" Rick said as Dalten headed out the door with a smile on his face.
**
Rick stared at the muscular equine as he walked out of the shop, and then back down at the card.
Dalten S. Taylor
Composition
4 Main St. Apt 6A
555-1456
Quickly he looked down at his watch and was startled he'd only have a few minutes to bike to campus and make it to class. He stuffed the card into his pants and let the manager know that he was off the clock.
His bike was out back locked to an old drain pipe. He hefted his backpack on his shoulders and made sure his guitar case was secure as he rode off.
I meet THE Dalten Taylor and I make a fool out of myself. Sure everyone knew he lived in town, but few people had met the solitary musician. He was notorious for keeping to himself. No one had mentioned how BIG he was. Rick's mind ran in circles as he rode to school, convinced he'd made a total ass of himself.
**
Dalten scribbled furiously. The ideas were just burning in his brain and he had to get them onto paper before they faded. Sure most composers used that notation software, but Dalten found that paper and pencil worked far better for him. He'd send the composition to his publisher and get the grumbled complaint of having to try to read what he'd sent them. He snorted and sipped at his tea. It'd gotten cold. He set it aside, continuing to put down his notations.
Finally at last, he set his pencil down and shook his mane vigorously loosening the muscles in his neck. That walk last night, and the coffee had gotten his creative juices flowing. He stood up and stretched taking the sheets of paper over to his one and only indulgence. The huge 9 foot Bosendorfer Grand had set him back a pretty penny, but had been worth the expense. It wouldn't be broken in during HIS lifetime, but one thing about these pianos are they sound much better than other expensive pianos when new.
He set the sheets down, adjusted the stool height, and started in using his voice as a replacement for the violin.
It wasn't an easy piece, and he wouldn't be the one performing it, but he worked his way through it to ensure he had the sounds right. Thumping on his floor caused him to chuckle. Everyone was a critic. None more so than Mrs. Jacobson who only considered Mozart worthy of praise.
Finished for now, and finally feeling tired from his lack of sleep he clopped into his bedroom. He stripped off his shirt and jeans and tugged his boxers off. He didn't bother to close the blinds, this would only be a nap. He rarely worked as late as he had and intended to get a good nights sleep this evening now that his current commission was done. Plus without the sun he'd wake in a start not knowing what time it was.
Dalten laid down on the sheets and pillow and sighed. His mind drifted back to the young dalmatian, Rick. Those black spots had been absolutely adorable. He grunted. The thought causing a good amount of his cock to rise from his ample sheath. He sighed though.
He doubted anything would ever happen. Here he was, a behemouth of a horse, standing a good three feet taller than the young canine. He doubted they were vastly different in age in reality. Dalten had graduated with his bachelors at 18, then finished his masters at age 21. He was only 25 now. He was pondering going back for post graduate studies and a PhD, but was undecided as to where.
Thinking about returning to college reminded him of Rick. He was so enthusiastic, and he pulled off a perfect Dr. Carson. He hopped the cute canine would call. If anything he could use the friendship.
**
Two days later Rick was working on his homework for the day. Music classes aside, he still had western literature, history, and biology to finish up. It was Friday, and if there is one thing Rick hated more than homework, was homework on a weekend. He made it a point to finish up before heading home for the day.
"Still don't like to do homework at home?" The feline sat down next to him. She was a classmate and studied violin. Rick barely glanced up at her. "No." Val sighed. "Come on Rick, you know Kingsbury is having a party tonight right?" "Yup." Val waited tapping one claw on the table in the library. "Well!? Aren't you going?"
"Nope. I need to practice my improvisation. Talent or not, I need to figure out how to improv. Dr. Carson is urging it. More than that, he's requiring it as part of my grade now."
"Oh, well, maybe I'll see you around this weekend?" Val stood up.
"Maybe." Rick sighed. "Have fun."
**
Rick knocked on Dr. Carson's office door. The hallway was filled with the light of the setting sun. Faint music could be heard throughout the hall as students or teachers taught and practiced various instruments and vocal techniques.
The handle turned and there stood Dr. Carson. The old gruff hound scowling involuntarily at him, his jowls hanging low. "mmm Mr. Wells, what brings you to my office so late? And on a Friday too?"
"I just thought I'd ask you for some advice sir." Rick cast his eyes down. Even through Dr. Carson was known as a very nice guy, Rick always found his looks a tad intimidating.
"Please come in, and sit, do." Dr. Carson motioned to one of the practice stools, and took his own place in his leather office chair, his older computer screen showing some faculty e-mails. His own guitar and lute hanging on wall stands. They'd be placed in special cases before the night was out, Rick was sure of that. One thing Dr. Carson abhorred above all else was misuse or not caring for an instrument properly.
"Mmm so what can I do for you youngster?"
"Well, it's my improvisational skills sir, I have no idea where to begin. I've read the texts you've given me, I've studied the counterpoint, but I just don't know how to begin."
Rick's tail tucked between his legs involuntarily.
"Hrm....so you need guidance? I could assign you to one of my T.A's but I don't think we need to go that far. You're close young man, very close to unlocking you talent. A lot of people believe talent is inherent. It isn't. I had to work for forty years to get as good as I am, and that's saying something."
The old hound eyed him while drumming his fingers on his desk.
"Tell me, do you have anyone you could practice with?"
Rick cast his eyes down again. "N-no sir. The only musicians I know are Val, and uh, Mr. Taylor...but I don't know him all that well sir."
The hound burst into a grin.
"Dalten eh? I suggest you 'talk shop' with him. If there is one thing about Dalten is that he can't help himself when it comes to music. If you get him started about your problem I'm sure he'll put you in the right."
Rick's eyes goggled. "B-but I don't have money for lessons....I..."
"Nonsense kid. Dalten was a born teacher, he just doesn't know it yet. He's still coming into his own. I'll let you in on a little secret kid. Dalten is a very talented composer, and a fine musician, but he can't play guitar to save his life. You'd run him in circles in point of fact."
The old hound stood and pulled Rick to his feet. "Just ask him son, I think you'll be surprised.
The door clicked shut behind Rick as he let our an exasperated sigh.
**
An hour later, completely drained from his homework Rick's stomach growled at him, reminding him that lunch had been a long time ago. His mind thought back to Dalten. Maybe he should call. He was a little scared at the prospect, but being alone on a Friday afternoon, and not wanting to go to yet another party made up his mind. He typed in the numbers into his cell. It only rang twice.
"Hello?" The bass voice boomed in the earpiece.
"Um - Hi. It's, ah, Rick."
"Rick!? Hey! How are you? I'm glad you called!"
"Listen, I'm starving, feel like joining me for a bit to eat and maybe a beer?"
"Sure, where should we meet?"
"Bastions ok?" It was a college area restaurant that wasn't too rowdy.
"Sure, meet you there in half an hour."
Rick smiled as he grabbed his guitar and backpack as he headed to his bike.
**
Dalten panicked. He'd gone to the gym today, but hadn't showed after, and there was no time now. He began digging quickly through his clothes to find something clean. Finally setting on a white shirt, and black slacks. He hefted his legs into them a little too quickly falling to the floor with a deep thud. Mrs. Jackobson letting him know her displeasure.
"Yeah yeah...." Dalten muttered getting his pants and shirt on.
He rushed to the bathroom and quickly curried his mane and applied a little cologne. He hoped it'd cover his horse sweat smell. Wrinkling his nose, it was the best he could do. At least this wasn't a FIRST impression, that had already happened. He hoped the cute dalmatian could forgive him his rumpled appearance.
**
Rick eyed the menu. There were burgers, pizza, sandwiches and the like, but one thing all furs know is to not offend a fellow fur. He had no idea if Dalten was omnivorous. It was highly unlikely he was carnivorous, but the thought of burgers brought a slight bit of drool to his fangs. He finally decided on a burger, well done and a stout beer.
Dalten winced a bit but nodded, and ordered a pizza with peperoni and a beer.
The restaurant was not yet packed. IT wouldn't be so until well after 9 pm, and it was only 7 or so.
"So, ah, how have been the last few days?" Dalton rumbled, his deep bass startling the young otter couple behind him. "Sorry." He offered quietly.
"Oh, not bad. Classes and such. I've been trying to work on improvisation but I've gotten no where. Dr. Carson has made it part of my singleness now. The best I can do is a simple melodic line.
The huge horse leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his hands clasped together.
"So? What is a simple line but a melody? What is a melody but the partner of counterpoint? Once you have a melodic line, you work on a counter melody to match." Dalton took a deep draught of his huge beer.
"You make it sound easy!" Rick laughed.
Thier meals arrived.
"Sorry about the meat." Rick blushed.
Dalton smirked. It's ok. Believe it or not my brother enjoys steak." Dalton shuddered. "To each their own I guess."
They ate in silence for a while.
Soon they began to break the ice. A few comments on the professors from Dalton lead to questions about his own lessening from Rick. Finally Dalton was asking numerous questions about Dalton's own skills.
"I'm not a good performer at all, except on organ. My piano is fair, but I'm heavy handed. That doesn't matter on an organ, though I have special hoofed shoes to make up for a lack of toes.. I'm atrocious on strings. I'm not bad at brass or winds though, and if I wanted I could probably make a career as a bassoonist."
Rick canine grinned as he finished his beer. "Well I'm awesome on guitar, and thats it. No composition, no skills on keyboards, nothing. And Carson said I have to learn improvisation....or..." Rick shrugged. Was that beer getting to him?
Dalten chuckled. "Well I think I may have a solution for you. You have your guitar right? Want a lesson?"
Rick dropped his fork on his plate. "A - uh - lesson?"
Dalten smiled. "Yes. Gratis. Free of charge. You are a struggling musician right? It would be my honor to 'pay it forward' as it were."
Rick nodded, his ears back and tail tucked between his legs.
**
Dalten grinned as he paid the bill. The young dalmatian was infatuated with him, he was sure of it. What better way to dissuade him of his infatuation by showing the young pup how bad HE was on guitar. As the waiter left, Dalton glanced and saw the young dalmatian looking at him with lust. He sighed. This would not be easy.
They walked back to his apartment building, Rick wheeling his bike and other affects with him. They chatted about the weather. Trite, and conceited, but still, it's what they did.
They finally reached the building. They locked Rick's bike to the bike rack and made it to the elevator and eventually, Dalton's apartment.
"So, ah, Dal, you live alone?" The young pup asked looking around. He knew his apartment was spare. A desk here, a small table there. The only thing in the bedroom was the bed and nightstand. The only thing that caught anyone's eye was the huge grand piano that took up most of the room.
"Wow." Rick stared at the piano.
Dalton blushed and nodded. "I need something to practice my craft on. Now....about that lesson...."
Rick quickly pulled his guitar from it's case and tuned it by ear.
"Perfect pitch?" Dalton inquired as he headed to the kitchen.
"Relative anyway...." Rick responded striking an "A" on the piano. Dalton nodded. He poured himself a large glass of wine. He hadn't taught in years, and being close to the young man would tax his self control. He knew wine would dull that. Most dreyman or farmers got drunk and frisky on wine. He just calmed down and went to sleep.
"Would you like some wine?"
"Sure!" Rick answered continuing to tune the guitar.
Dalten clopped into the room and sat on the piano stood. Rick was on a similar stool near the piano, his light pink tongue sticking out in concentration as he tuned his guitar. Dalten chuckled throatily as he sipped his wine.
"What?" Rick asked, not looking up, continuing his tuning.
"You just look cute, concentrating on your tuning. Ready?"
Ricks head shot up. "Yes."
Dalten took a deep breath, opening the cover to the keys and removing the protective cloth. "Ok, so what have you improvised so far?"
Rick frowned. "Not much."
"Show me" Dalten smirked.
Rick gently took the guitar into his arms and quietly played an 8 bar passage.
"Ok....."Dalten huffed. He pulled a piece of blank sheet music over and jotted down the tune. "This look right?" He asked as he took another long drought of wine?"
That tune is perfect! Dalten thought to himself. Simple, melodic, perfectly formed! How can this kid not know his own talents!?"
Rick nodded.
"So what would you compose against it?" Dalten asked, taking yet another drink.
**
The huge horse loomed over him as he thought quickly. The melody was simple. How could he counter it? He quickly thought about chords and arpeggios but dismissed that...."I-I don't know really." Dalten smiled at him, he equine teeth shining in the light...."how about this?"
The horses thick fingers played a simple line on the piano. As soon as he heard it, Rick sat bolt upright. It fit perfectly. The chording was there, but only in passing tones. The soft line was strengthened by the counter melody. Quickly he joined in on his guitar, ending the phrase, but continuing.
The piano continued, one line after another. Soon the piano took up the simple melody he had constructed. Rick closed his eyes and concentrated. He could see the counter melody in his mind in the shapes of colors. Blues, yellows, and greens. He quickly followed suit crafting yet a third strain, then a fourth. Soon the two were swapping melodies, until at last they both came to a halt.
"Well." Dalten snorted. "I don't think you have to worry about your skills. They're there. They're burred deep and instinctual. You'll be able to tap into them more naturally though. I insist you join me every other day for practice!"
**
Dalen glanced down at Rick smiling a huge equine smile. The youngster had almost outshone him in talent. Their musicality inter meshed, and they both complimented each other. He'd bring in a counter melody and Rick would match it with ease. If only the pup had experience on keyboards!
"Uh, I ah....can't ah....pay" the dalmatian blushed deeply. Dalten chuckled. "No need cutie. I could use the company. Besides, having a handsome young canine like you in my apartment on a regular basis will keep my mother from throwing eligible fillies at me."
Rick paused, then blushed, and threw his arms around the thick equine neck. "Thank you Dalten, I think, I think you're going to make a great friend!" Rick licked his nose twice.
The youngster packed up his guitar, blushing cutely.
"And you...." Dalten rumbled standing swiftly and catching the cute dalmatian in a tight hug, "will make a great student."
**