OOCPM me after this
As soon as Atticus had offered the thumbs up and handed the pale child his journal back, his mood seemed to lighten greatly. Atticus had a feeling - that, initially, he would admit he wasn't sure of - that Davor wasn't comfortable with his peculiar little ailment. Atticus couldn't say he could understand his situation and he couldn't pretend to know how to in any way improve it, but he could definitely help accommodate it, and he could certainly do his best to empathize with his new friend. Or... Was he a friend?
Atticus crossed his eyebrows. It seemed Davor was his friend. Atticus couldn't recall the last friend he had made, so he wasn't quite sure how to process this. He supposed it wasn't a bad thing - there were worse people to become acquainted with than a wide eyed little boy - but Atticus seemed to have been getting more and more social recently, meeting so many new people. He wasn't quite sure of how to think about it. But Davor... Davor didn't seem that different from Atticus. And this one at least was around his age as well. Maybe there was more to connect with. Atticus offered the young lad a smile as he passed over his journal once more.
I'm a violnist. Well, I guess I'm called a 'bard' now ever since Rhaus got involved. It read. Following that sentence, heavily inked as if he were trying to hide what it had said. Atticus squinted his eyes at the page but had decided not to press in on it, considering the boy had taken the time to assure Atticus could not read his message, so he continued. "See, it's a bit of a family tradition I suppose, and actually part of the reason I came out here tonight. Lhavit is so big and noisy, especially compared to Kalinor, I haven't really had a chance to play since I got here. The park is quiet enough for me to focus, and it's got sort of a subtle beauty to it. Most of the music I write is founded in nature, and the park has plenty of inspiration to be found.[/b]
Atticus' eyes bulged. "Kalinor..." He whispered.
If Davor was from Kalinor, that meant that he was a...
A Symenestra.
Atticus turned white for a second and shoved his head back into Davor's journal, suddenly too timid to show himself. He had heard the rumors. He had heard the kid's stories. And that's what they were! Stories! He couldn't possibly be a monster who steals women and children, look at him! He's little! And shy! There couldn't possibly be anything Davor could do to harm Atticus.
Unless the legends were true and he could, in fact, spit acid. In which case Atticus would have to be careful.
But as of yet, Davor seemed friendly. He could potentially steal Atticus away but why? He hadn't even meant to stumble upon Atticus. Maybe he was just a shy boy. That's kind of what Atticus wanted him to be. It'd be nice to have a friend, in any case.
He kept reading.
I could play for you. A lot of scratched out writing. Only if, you know, you want.
Atticus looked up at the boy with the same half smile. He nodded, and handed the book back to the child.
As soon as Atticus had offered the thumbs up and handed the pale child his journal back, his mood seemed to lighten greatly. Atticus had a feeling - that, initially, he would admit he wasn't sure of - that Davor wasn't comfortable with his peculiar little ailment. Atticus couldn't say he could understand his situation and he couldn't pretend to know how to in any way improve it, but he could definitely help accommodate it, and he could certainly do his best to empathize with his new friend. Or... Was he a friend?
Atticus crossed his eyebrows. It seemed Davor was his friend. Atticus couldn't recall the last friend he had made, so he wasn't quite sure how to process this. He supposed it wasn't a bad thing - there were worse people to become acquainted with than a wide eyed little boy - but Atticus seemed to have been getting more and more social recently, meeting so many new people. He wasn't quite sure of how to think about it. But Davor... Davor didn't seem that different from Atticus. And this one at least was around his age as well. Maybe there was more to connect with. Atticus offered the young lad a smile as he passed over his journal once more.
I'm a violnist. Well, I guess I'm called a 'bard' now ever since Rhaus got involved. It read. Following that sentence, heavily inked as if he were trying to hide what it had said. Atticus squinted his eyes at the page but had decided not to press in on it, considering the boy had taken the time to assure Atticus could not read his message, so he continued. "See, it's a bit of a family tradition I suppose, and actually part of the reason I came out here tonight. Lhavit is so big and noisy, especially compared to Kalinor, I haven't really had a chance to play since I got here. The park is quiet enough for me to focus, and it's got sort of a subtle beauty to it. Most of the music I write is founded in nature, and the park has plenty of inspiration to be found.[/b]
Atticus' eyes bulged. "Kalinor..." He whispered.
If Davor was from Kalinor, that meant that he was a...
A Symenestra.
Atticus turned white for a second and shoved his head back into Davor's journal, suddenly too timid to show himself. He had heard the rumors. He had heard the kid's stories. And that's what they were! Stories! He couldn't possibly be a monster who steals women and children, look at him! He's little! And shy! There couldn't possibly be anything Davor could do to harm Atticus.
Unless the legends were true and he could, in fact, spit acid. In which case Atticus would have to be careful.
But as of yet, Davor seemed friendly. He could potentially steal Atticus away but why? He hadn't even meant to stumble upon Atticus. Maybe he was just a shy boy. That's kind of what Atticus wanted him to be. It'd be nice to have a friend, in any case.
He kept reading.
I could play for you. A lot of scratched out writing. Only if, you know, you want.
Atticus looked up at the boy with the same half smile. He nodded, and handed the book back to the child.
