#earthrunes

August wanders closer, interested by the conversation, but pauses. "My apologies, am I interupting?"

Art closes his mouth and bows to the Baron again, realizing he spoke over the soft-spoken Lord's introduction.

"No more defective than a Dougal, aye - or a nocker's craft. Only G-d is perfect."

Gladiola rubs her horns at something

Then "It's good to meet you more formally, Baron."

A look to Arthur "Art. I didn't say he was worthless, and I admire the heck out of his pluck. I just wanted to restore to him what Blaine's cold had taken. IF possible."

"Sluagh value the beauty of broken things. There are stories in every crack and wrinkle. There is grace in this little one's scars."

August waits.

Art ducks his head a bit. "Sorry, Gladiola. I didn't mean to put words in your mouth."

Gladiola looks to the Baron "Your pardon, Baron, you're not interupting"

He nods then, and wanders closer.

"Another Day another bit of dross, Arthur. You're just looking out for Thistle." Gladiola steps aside so the Baron can move forward "I think I'll step out for a bit. Get a breath of fresh air."

"I believe you may find some canines in the garden, Dame."

"I would like to see how our Silverwolf born pup is doing yes, thank you, Miss Zara. " She nods

"Okay..." Art says, a little uncertain, watching her go.

"Bother it all." Art 'swears' with disappointment after she has stepped out. "They say that Nockers are the prickly ones, but I just can't seem to step right around Dame Gladiola a lot of the time."

"Trolls have a frustrating habit of heaping blame upon their broad shoulders."

"Not unlike some sidhe I know..."

Gladiola bowed to August and stepped out

"How can I make things right? That is, other than telling me to watch what I say. I try, but my thoughts tend to escape before I can give them proper review." He admits.

August is carried along by the flow of conversation, seeking some buoy of commonality or raft of sense.

"Ah, it may be difficult to pry her worries from her lips. But that is likely the best way."

"Have you a pooka?"

"We do, her name is Bluebell. Last I know though, she was sent off on vacation after taking a fright. I think she's expected back soon. And there is Rochallor, he's awfully quiet though. These days he's been spending time getting to know a mortal couple who I think will be adopting him."

"Mm. August, thoughts?"

"On?" a little baffled "Ah.. Trolls... I think you have greater knowledge than I, Miss Zara."

"Trolls care greatly about appearing to be strong. If she is your friend, you must be as stubborn as she is, and persist in learning what troubles her. It can be... vexing. But worthwhile."

"And... I fear I'm not skilled with pooka. It is a flaw of mine."

"Who is skilled with pooka, I ask? Mine sister oft weaves patterns more complex than any spider, and I find myself a fly."

Some of the spiders seem to click in quiet agreement. Vashti is perplexing. She SHOULD Be prey but... sometimes she gives off a predator's patterns

"Nevertheless, I feel at a loss with pooka."

"No shame in it."

"So - as I asked the Dame, young Arthur - do you wish for me to cast a reading upon this creature?"

He tilts his head curiously.

He considers this, "An omen - soothsay? May I watch? I'm not sure yet where my power, if any, may lie once my full memories return, but I have visions, so I have been considering a study of the Art.."

August glances around, sees the teapot and setting, and nods.

"Visions?" A slight arch to her brow, and the brush of kenning against him.

"Then yes, soothsay may help shape and guide your seeking. It is a worthy Art, but requires great wisdom in the wielding. Da'an shall not be toyed with."

"So I have been told. My Baron, that is, Lord Aiden, has pledged to teach me, but... he does not seem eager to practice it. Mostly, as of yet, it has been theoretical instruction, not practical."

"I have been learning of the placement of stars in the sky, and how to use an astrolabe and other tools to read them..."

Zara nods. "There are many means of divination, and any one may aid. I have my favorites - you shall find yours, too."

"Of this, I have no doubt."

He smiles at her, lighting up his handsome, boyish features. "You think so, really? Then I shall have no worries."

Footsteps again. Gwen is no stealther

Looking to August, "What do you think, Lord August? Of young Fornax." He steps aside so that the draconet, now dozing on the last page of the book, can be observed.

"Ahhhh.... " an exhale of wonder, and he comes closer, fascinated. He nods to Bronte and bends closer for a look.

A claw-tipped paw, 'fingers' not quite separated enough to grip properly, twitches, turning pages in his dozy dream. What do dreams dream about when they dream?

Bronte nods "A person's a person no matter how small"

And Gwen enters in fully, a soft bow