Rick had waited strategically the entire time, getting ready for the rest of the band to start. When Ali led off, he grinned, cracked his knuckles, and picked up the rhythm. He had played Thunderhorse several times in the past. This was nowhere near the first time that he had played it. He'd heard it about a thousand times before now, even when he wasn't playing. But it never got any less fun to do. Much to Flynn's (and his own) chagrin, he quickly found himself growling out the occasional "THUNDER" alongside the vocalist's, giving the song a bit of dissonance.

The guitarist's fingers flitted nimbly across the frets, his picking hand practically a blur as he thundered through the song, loving every second of it.

Flynn sang the words passionately, he loved thunderhorse with a great passion just like Rick obviously did. Flynn found himself getting into the music eagerly, and started prancing around and rocking the microphone stand back and fourth, before taking the mic off the stand, wrapping the cable around his wrist and just completely letting loose and enjoying himself. He leaned against the stand resting his entire body weight on it, before he got too engrossed in what he was doing, that he leant too much on the stand, causing it give way under him, and him nearly falling flat on the ground, but he just about saved himself in time.

He found himself chuckling at his own stupidity whilst singing the lyrics, causing the lyrics to sound like a jumbled up mess. He didn't care though, he just carried on before the giggles disappeared and the words came out clear again. It was clear, getting a slot at the one place he dreamed of playing was getting to him just that little bit too much.

Thom assumed the stance and thumped out the bassline in time with the rhytm guitar. Even though it was only a practice, he knew it was important to feel the music so the groove came naturally on stage too. So he tilted his hat forward and got into the swing of the song, occassionally siding up to Rick to emphasise the synchronicity between the rhythm guitat and the bass.

Scott all the while was in a world of his own - the benefit of being the drummer being that it was allowed to do just that, everyone else was following you after all - smiling, eyes closed, head nodding to the rhythm. Every cymbal crash was an over-emphasized arm swipe, and any rest beat was flourished with a spin of the drumsticks.

Flynn kept singing to his heart's content in practice until the song had come to an end. "Woo! So what you guys wanna practice next?" He asked, eager to get into the next song, now that they had started finally. He walked away from his mic stand, and over to the little mini fridge that was just behind the beaten up sofa he was sitting on before they had all turned up. Opening the mini door, he brought out a can of coke and opened it, gulping down the can of sugar. He closed the fridge's door behind him and went back to the microphone stand.

Considering he was already slightly hyper from finally giving everyone the news about their upcoming gig, drinking down a sugary drink was probably not the best move. For a 19 year old he was rather childish and prone to having giddy moment once loaded up with sugar. He was a lot worse on alcohol, which was probably why he only drank alcohol on gig nights.

(sorry for the crap entry, i just had to post something to keep this going)