07-30-2013, 03:27 PM
He was very serious, from his mannerisms to the way he spoke, and it was at relative odds with how young he looked; something in the region of her own age, give or take a few years in either direction, would be her guess. Certainly not old enough to justify such a heaviness to his countenance, which probably meant he had an interesting story. He’d come to the CCD, after all, and one only had to look at something like Vulpesnet to see that not all those outside the Dominances viewed it favourably. Those who chose to relocate usually had reasons beyond whim.
“Well, formal education is overrated anyway.” She shrugged, pulled another book and lingered over this one; or, more specifically, the glossy pictures at its centre. Though her gaze was pulled down, her expression focussed in contemplation of the artwork, she of course latched onto the oddity in his explanation; it was a downright bizarre thing to say, though it cemented her notion that he had not simply chosen to come to the CCD, but fled to it. Years of war?
“That’s very poetic.” She might have pressed further, but instinct held her back; he’d diverted her attention on purpose, she was pretty sure, and in any case she was happy to be diverted. And reminded that actually, yes, she was looking for something in particular. She snapped the book shut, and returned it in an approximation of where it had come from. “Norse mythology,” she said, almost as if to confirm it to herself, and leaned in to scan the shelf intently. “I have this commission – for a design with a serpent and a tree. Which makes me think of Jörmungandr and Yggdrasil.”
“Well, formal education is overrated anyway.” She shrugged, pulled another book and lingered over this one; or, more specifically, the glossy pictures at its centre. Though her gaze was pulled down, her expression focussed in contemplation of the artwork, she of course latched onto the oddity in his explanation; it was a downright bizarre thing to say, though it cemented her notion that he had not simply chosen to come to the CCD, but fled to it. Years of war?
“That’s very poetic.” She might have pressed further, but instinct held her back; he’d diverted her attention on purpose, she was pretty sure, and in any case she was happy to be diverted. And reminded that actually, yes, she was looking for something in particular. She snapped the book shut, and returned it in an approximation of where it had come from. “Norse mythology,” she said, almost as if to confirm it to herself, and leaned in to scan the shelf intently. “I have this commission – for a design with a serpent and a tree. Which makes me think of Jörmungandr and Yggdrasil.”