This lullaby, though he cannot remember its origin or context
The memory of being attacked by wolves in the forest and fending them off with torches, though he cannot remember where nor when this was nor who his two companions were
The memory of sitting on a bench, playing an instrument he can't quite recall, composing a repertoire of songs as the feeling of grief and loss gnaws at his gut (though he has no idea why that should be the case either)
"Breda reached out a hand. It looked as if she was trying to pull Saraid back, to stop her from falling. Faolan abandoned his careful approach and lunged toward the fair-haired woman. And in that instant, Saraid flinched away from the reaching hand, lost her footing and fell. One moment she was there, the next gone."
Being attacked by the Blues (now the Reds in the fog scenario bc Blue Is A Problem) at Breaking Ford on the way to Alpin's holdings
He sits in a forest of tall trees, peering out from behind a row of bushes to the scene beyond, at three round cairns, each circled with a ring of standing stones. A group of cloaked women performs some sort of ritual among the stones. A man sits, sleeping against a tree beside him, and he's obviously being very quiet so as to not wake the man or let the women know that he is there.
The feeling that he was a lot more comfortable with his Halloween costume than he should be with that era of clothing.
'… Like summertime her flowing locks, like spring’s first blush her skin … Away from Fionnbharr’s dazzled mind fied home and craft and kin …'
"Faolan, behind him, reached out for his knife. His knee would not take his weight; he could not get to his feet, and he would not be able to fight. The moment Alpin turned and saw him, he was dead meat. The knife was by his pack, close, so close …"
"The techniques came back to him readily enough, and the neglected harp stood up remarkably well to the test. If Faolan could have shut himself off from the painful return of the heart’s knowledge, he might have done as he was asked and emerged with nothing worse than blistered fingers."
THING
Old Irish Gaelic (originally triggered to sing this lullaby in its original language)
Bardic training on the harp
THING
An early Irish harp; video reference for size/sound
A small dagger/throwing knife
THING
Scars from a wolf attack; one shoulder and one knee
THING
THING