It was longer than the duskwight had expected before he returned to the inn. He'd been busy. 'Reorganizing' was a downplayed way to put how much he'd changed his room. Nevermind, he'd been practicing; the Aether channeling in his lesser talented practice of Conjury was, he thought (or at least liked to) getting better. But it had taken quite a hold on his focus lately, as though he needed to do this before much else could be done. After all, they would need more progress on the translating. And while he had discerned some things, it was hardly enough. He wanted to be ready if he should ask another to get what he thought they needed. And even if not for that, he wanted to be ready for what was unexpected. Xavarian felt he'd neglected his studies far too long.
Though, no small part of the matter was his continuously spiraling thoughts; an odd thing, that as much as he mused about them, he needed to insist, almost chide himself, into doing more than that. In no small part, they inspired him. In no small part, all of it was a paradox. So in yet another part, finding himself lost in other tasks seemed to somehow make sense.. until he realized it'd been far too long since he'd been to the inn.
When he returned, it was there waiting for him. A letter. He didn't even try to hide his smile, the little jumping embers on him attested, and quickly he re-fitted his scepter in its place on his arm before taking up the page, one he'd given, he noticed, to look over. The first few lines read caused a heated huff from the sparking mage, and he thusly decided to place the note down and shuffle around in embarrassed and silent protest a little while, as he used his hands to help kick off his boots. Stocking feet now free, the duskwight retook the letter, then curled himself up on the bed to re-read from the beginning, and the whole way through this time.
Grins and quiet snickers abound. Though through it, Xavarian had an endeared smile; that she would tell him such a thing. That she found it clearer through his words. And he found himself, though he knew it be wrong, hearing a tune in his own mind when he read her small story. He opened his mouth then, as though to comment on it, though just cracked up quietly to himself at the thought. Uncanny what language does indeed~
The duskwight needed a moment, rereading the letter several times, before just flopping back in his bed. He closed his eyes to listen to what went through his mind. He wasn't quite tired, but he mused for a while, until his musings seemed to give him the energy to up and begin to write in return.
It was already the first signs of morning by the time Xavarian was done, and there was something sleepy to the duskwight's steps as he quietly ambled to deliver his own letter. He got turned around a few times, yet blowing hair from his face was the only reaction he really gave to the mistakes; even then, his thoughts had him in a different place.
As he stopped at her door, he almost knocked without thinking. The duskwight let out a snirk, having stopped himself in time to just lightly place his hand on the door, a much less audible gesture, before kneeling instead to slide a single sheet of swirling paper beneath. A yawn escaped him then, tired enough to not even feel embarrassed as he scooted in some for someone passing through the hallway behind him. Though soon enough he rose, and ran a hand through his hair and over his face. A small grin remained. He hoped what he wrote made some amount of sense, but turned his thoughts quickly back to their own musings once more as he quietly returned towards his own room to rest.
Though, no small part of the matter was his continuously spiraling thoughts; an odd thing, that as much as he mused about them, he needed to insist, almost chide himself, into doing more than that. In no small part, they inspired him. In no small part, all of it was a paradox. So in yet another part, finding himself lost in other tasks seemed to somehow make sense.. until he realized it'd been far too long since he'd been to the inn.
When he returned, it was there waiting for him. A letter. He didn't even try to hide his smile, the little jumping embers on him attested, and quickly he re-fitted his scepter in its place on his arm before taking up the page, one he'd given, he noticed, to look over. The first few lines read caused a heated huff from the sparking mage, and he thusly decided to place the note down and shuffle around in embarrassed and silent protest a little while, as he used his hands to help kick off his boots. Stocking feet now free, the duskwight retook the letter, then curled himself up on the bed to re-read from the beginning, and the whole way through this time.
Grins and quiet snickers abound. Though through it, Xavarian had an endeared smile; that she would tell him such a thing. That she found it clearer through his words. And he found himself, though he knew it be wrong, hearing a tune in his own mind when he read her small story. He opened his mouth then, as though to comment on it, though just cracked up quietly to himself at the thought. Uncanny what language does indeed~
The duskwight needed a moment, rereading the letter several times, before just flopping back in his bed. He closed his eyes to listen to what went through his mind. He wasn't quite tired, but he mused for a while, until his musings seemed to give him the energy to up and begin to write in return.
________
It was already the first signs of morning by the time Xavarian was done, and there was something sleepy to the duskwight's steps as he quietly ambled to deliver his own letter. He got turned around a few times, yet blowing hair from his face was the only reaction he really gave to the mistakes; even then, his thoughts had him in a different place.
As he stopped at her door, he almost knocked without thinking. The duskwight let out a snirk, having stopped himself in time to just lightly place his hand on the door, a much less audible gesture, before kneeling instead to slide a single sheet of swirling paper beneath. A yawn escaped him then, tired enough to not even feel embarrassed as he scooted in some for someone passing through the hallway behind him. Though soon enough he rose, and ran a hand through his hair and over his face. A small grin remained. He hoped what he wrote made some amount of sense, but turned his thoughts quickly back to their own musings once more as he quietly returned towards his own room to rest.
