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 Posted: Mon Nov 04, 2013 5:39 pm
With the other still smiling before him, Eiry couldn't help but feel like this was the best thing to have happened to him in ages. The way that Rhedefere looked at him was just so...It was so honest, so interested and kind. It was a truly interested look, made all the more focused by his attempts to decipher what it was he was saying. It was the first time in a while that Eiry had been looked at hlike that. Isi had looked at him with exhaustion, the others with dismissive or necessary glances. This felt like Cesc was actually invested in him, and Eiry felt great.
Hearing that his new and young friend enjoyed books, the ghost raevan looked at him with eagerness, relieved and gladdened all at the same time. "Another book worm, like myself, a truly wonderful thing, and books shall help strengthen your tongue and eyes, your mind. Such a great exercise they are. Wonderful! If you do not know much of poetry..." But Eiry paused. Cesc had spoken. No, he hadn't just done that, he had recited. Recited poetry!! Eiry's eyes widened, his brain searching frantically through filed memories to remember that verse, but in light of Cesc's earnestly interested face, Eiry's quick thinking mind tripped, stumbled, and collapsed into a heap. His heart had paused, his breath stolen, and he looked with wide, almost shocked eyes at the frei before him. No one else had really recited poetry to him before.
It took Eiry a ocuple moments to gather his breath, but when he did, his eyes were glossy with earnest excitement. "That was beautiful," he said, at once at a loss for words. He felt his cheeks heat up, and he laughed a little from embarrassment before he awkwardly clapped his hands together, still holding his book in his arms. "Absolutely wonderful, Cesc! Such a little treasure you have learned, those words, that poem...That is such a special thing. Who is the author? Who inspired you to carry such a piece of fine romance with you? Oh! Oh! I have just the thing for you!"
Eiry turned, holding his precious gift in his arms close to his beating heart as he turned to look at the books he had set down earlier. There was a book in particular in that pile that he knew the other would like. Or at least, he thought he knew. To be honest, it would be a while guess, but Octovio Paz had never once failed to delight Eiry or others for that matter. After digging out the book from the pile, using a brief stint of ghostly telekinesis to hold the books in the air for him, he straightened up again and turned to Cesc, holding out a little book for him, full of Octavio Paz' poems and the translations therein. "Here, one of my favorite poets," he said with an ear to ear smile, "His name is Octavio Paz, a Spanish writer, and he is a master of verse. I'll rent out the book for you in my name. If you learn such verses as that, then you will enjoy his work as well."
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Posted: Fri Jan 03, 2014 5:33 pm
Eiry was such a flurry of movement, such an immense amount of emotion and words and motion that it made Cesc's young head spin to keep up with it. He felt like their roles were somehow reversed, or like a puppy being left with an old dog, running circles around its elder. He was too slow and too... something to keep up with the sigel.
"Ah..." the frei began, clearing his throat. He had recited the poem because he knew it, and the reaction to his doing so caught him completely off guard. How easily pleased Eiry was! It was a wonderful thing to watch, and Cesc's ears twitched with a sort of self-conscious pleasure at having caused such a reaction. He had done well without meaning to. "It is, I think, a Sir John Suckling... Vivi tells me it is not a very nice poem, but very funny."
He paused then, taking the book from Eiry's hands, flipping through the pages absently with his thumb, feeling its spine and its cover before flicking his eyes back up to the sigel.
"Thank you, very much," Cesc said, smiling boyishly. "I will read it, I promise. We could -- meet again? Somewhere to talk? If I need help understanding..."
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Posted: Mon Feb 24, 2014 5:45 pm
"Sir John!" said Eiry brightly, nodding to himself and cataloging that name away for his later peruse, he patted his gift to his chest and tilted his head to the side with that same smile still spread upon his cheeks, "I must pay him a visit then. Thank you for introducing me to him, most splendid does he sound!"
Poetry. Eiry felt as if he was fit to burst. Someone that he could talk poetry with! That was a particularly rare thing for him to come by, he felt, for many of those he attempted to converse with about anything relating to verse often listened to him for politeness' sake; but when it came to actually striking a discussion with him, it was a different matter entirely. It felt to Eiry as if they were on completely different planes, different wavelengths. Most of the time, it made him feel lonely, but he was feeling hope for this new friendship with Cesc. Perhaps they could be good friends, and poetry would be their bond!
Eiry smiled as Cesc studied the book in his hand, and he knew that he would take more from the book than just a couple new words to memorize. Judging by the way he stroked the book's spine, the cover, introducing himself to the book like he would a new pair of clothes, he knew that the book would influence him somehow someway. Eiry allowed a rare moment of pride to puff up his chest in this small moment of success. "Of course, you are most and very welcome, Cesc," he said with an earnest look, reflecting Cesc's smile with a big one of his own. His pointed ears were perked high with joy, "We may meet again, whenever you wish! Wherever you wish. I know a few cafes and book stores where, unlike libraries, you may hold a conversation without worrying for whispers! There are many here in the downtown area. I would enjoy it very much if we would meet at one of them, your choice, to talk over poetry or whatever strikes your fancy. I may be reached here most of the day through the library telephone or through letters to my home, or through Isi, my guardian's cell phone. I am afraid I do not carry one myself. I'm still much too awkward, too backwards, to learn such things. I will write down the means of my contact for you!"
Nodding to the frei, he started floating out of the hall towards the balcony where tables and complimentary pieces of scrap paper were left out for note taking. Placing his gift to the side, he bent over the table and carefully wrote out his directions in as legible print as he could manage. He often tried to make his lettering fancy with cursive, but he was finding out that it was hard for others to read, and he had been practicing his print in order to adapt. When finished, he turned about and handed the paper to Cesc with a smile. "There! Now you may reach me whenever you wish," he said. Behind him, his wings untucked, burning bright with Eiry's happiness.
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Posted: Thu Feb 27, 2014 5:09 pm
Cesc looked at the paper, turning it around with one hand to make sure he read and comprehended it all, and nodded up at the Sigel. He knew that he would read the book, and read it well. He couldn't help thinking that it was all he really COULD do. Eiry seemed so cheerful, so happy to have gotten a gift and to have the possibility -- as it was still just a possibility, thought Cesc ruefully -- of conversing about something he loved with another Raevan. Rhedefre did not want to let him down.
"Here," said the stag, taking one of the split pencils off the top of the racks, and a small slip of scrap paper. He scribbled the number to Vermillion down on top of it, and reached over to hand it to Eiry, putting it down upon the blank journal he'd given him. "This is where I live and work, the bakery. You can always reach me there."
He pulled back, smiling at the wisp. "Let's get together soon."
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