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One of the greater benefits about frequently being a good student at Hillworth meant you got more time away from campus. Certainly, with all of the activities he volunteered for and kept on top of, Howl had more than earned himself an afternoon away from the horrid school. Thanks to his roommate's antics earlier that day, the teal haired fellow needed to unwind a bit. What Waylon had said could have been seen as teasing, but somehow Howl felt the word "teasing" was not vicious enough to match the other boy's intent. However, it was not difficult to get rid of the daily stresses. No, all Howl needed to do was walk to the nearby park and spend some quality time with some of his favorite beauties.

He had his fencing equipment bag slung over his shoulder, which was the only thing that didn't seem to match with his general appearance. If it weren't for the bag, he would have looked like he was going to a country club. He walked along through the park at a casual pace, making his way to his favorite spot. The moment teal eyes managed to spot the familiar sight of beauty, his lips curled for a slightly larger smile.

To one side of the park was a rather extensive garden area for flowers. Most certainly the whole thing was littered with the common place roses, but there were also other finer flowers in there too. Irises, Orchids, Daffodils, Begonias, Tulips, and every so often the rare sight of a Bird of Paradise bloom managed to sneak into the collection. The collection varied at different times of years, some flowers wilting in their off seasons while others thrived. The park staff definitely earned their pay each week by keeping this collection looking rather elegant at all times.

For a brief moment, Howl was attracted to the flowers much like the butterflies and bees were on a daily basis. He made certain to not step in the planter, but then leaned in slightly to get a better catch of the scent lingering in the air. From there, he began to stroll about the planter, carefully noting each flower in his mind. He was definitely the sort who could spend a full trip to the park merely looking at the flowers, however, he managed to see something out of the corner of his eye that did not seem to fit the setting.

There was a girl with tan skin and pale hair sitting nearby on a bench. This in itself was not unusual. Many a person visited the park and sat on a bench. However, what had managed to pique his curiosity was not so much the girl, but the large piece of cardboard sprawled along her lap. She could have been making a poster, but the tool she was using for writing did not seem to fit. From what he recalled, those sorts of bags were found in kitchens usually, not city parks.

Though he was now a bit curious, he was also still quite thoughtful. He approached the girl from the front (as to not startle her from her current task, she seemed quite involved). "I beg your pardon, Miss," he politely interjected as he drew closer. His feet stopped at a respectful distance as he waited for the girl to acknowledge his presence.

His teal eyes had remained focused upon her own features as she paused from her work. Her eyes were nearly the same color as his own, though her skin was definitely quite a bit darker than his own. With the combination of that with her pale hair that was styled in a very thoughtful, particular manner, she honestly seemed minutely exotic. She definitely had a certain pleasantness to her that seemed to read of a good upbringing. Compared to his classmates, such manners were honestly a breath of fresh air.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Miss," he started off, his English accent touching his words as he spoke. He smiled to her, though his own smile seemed to read more as inquisitive. "I believe there is something you could assist me with. My curiosity has gotten the better of me, and I would like to inquire in regards to what it is you are working on?" For a brief moment, as if to accent his point, he glanced slightly down to the white board the girl was working with before returning his sights to her eyes.

"I would be grateful if any of my teachers were indeed understanding enough to let us have class outside." Ah Hillworth, the place where they tried to stamp out all individuality out of the students. Perhaps the hardest thing for Howl to do was to maintain that polite manner of his still, even in such a brutish environment. "You are quite privileged."

He remained standing with proper posture, but let his eyes drift down to the board, now that she was offering him a better view of what she had been working on. "Ah, so this is for a Home Economics class. It is a rather interesting approach to learning method, but I suppose it is easier than making a cake every time you would like to practice, yes?" He imagined that it was also healthier, since after a while, one would get sick of eating "practice cake."

He could not help but admire the false frosting flowers. They looked quite beautiful, but if he had his choice, he'd probably use candied flowers to actually do the decorating. Candied violets were actually quite a nice treat. Though the basket weaving was the most skilled, it was the item he spent the least amount of time analyzing or admiring. Most of his time was spent looking over the lettering. The young lady had already warned him about the lettering, but looking it over, he could not help but sigh in disappointment. It seemed with the lettering, she did not have a steady hand. Well, at least it seemed that way, since the frosting seemed to waver slightly mid-letter. Writing with frosting could not have been too difficult, at least Howl imagined such to be the case. His fingers were already itching to try, but he fought off the notion to simply just assume he could give such a shot.

"I can see what it is you are talking about with the lettering. The spacing between letters also varies quite a bit." He lifted his own eyes to easily meet hers. "If I might be so bold, Miss..." There was a hint of a pause before he realized something.

"...oh my, I have been quite rude, have I not?" He offered a polite laugh. "Here I am criticizing your work, and I have not even been polite enough to introduce myself." In a fluid motion, he extended his hand to her, as if asking her to shake or at least put her hand within his own. "Let me rectify this right now. My name is Howl Wickham. And might I ask what your name is, Miss?"

"It is a pleasure, Miss Namid." With a smile, he leaned forward slightly and drew her hand up to his lips for a simple and polite touch on the pointer knuckle. Nothing romantic, just sheer manners. With greetings out of the way, her hand was released, and then he resumed their place in the conversation. "Well, I do hope that you are not one of those young ladies from Crystal Academy who is permitted to get away with murder."

Since the girl had made the room for him to sit down next to her, he took his place there. She offered the board and the icing bag, both which he took both with ease. He warned her ahead of time "Now, I have never done this before, I will say that right now. I take it you need to squeeze upon the bag to make the flow, and it needs to be an even amount of pressure as to make no air bubbles or anything of the sort?" It honestly would have been a waste to just jump right into this without some sort of basic verbal instruction. Certainly, he was capable of jumping in and attempting such a thing blindly, squeezing the little bag to most likely make a mess. However, he had a brain and it functioned quite well. Howl had no intention of wasting the girl's frosting in such a poor manner.

There was a mental checklist he went through after the girl explained everything to him.

Two hands on the bag. Check

One towards the front for guiding the letters. Check

One towards the back for the pressure needed for squeezing. Check

Use a gentle, steady pressure to get the icing to come out. Check

He held the bag over the workspace, and soon enough colored frosting was flowing out onto the white surface of the board. For having never done this before in his entire life, he almost made it seem like it was an easy skill to master. It probably had to do with the fact he had a rather steady hand thanks to years of fencing practice and strict calligraphy training. His hand that squeezed knew how to apply the same steady amount of pressure, and his hand that was guiding knew how to move without any noticeable flaws.

The girl would soon enough notice what words were starting to form on the work space. It started with an A, which could have been anything word in all honesty, but then he followed it with a U, then a R, and rather quickly spelled out the rest of the young lady's first name. It might have seemed odd that a young man was forming such pretty looking letters. At the end, he made sure to stop squeezing and to drag the tip to cut off the frosting. Check

"Would you humor me, Miss Namid and inform me of how to spell your last name?" He paused from his work to glance back to her with a smile.

As he formed each letter, he repeated them back to her, as if double checking that he had indeed spelled the name correctly.

"N.....a.....m......i.....d!" Once at the end, he continued on to make the tail of the D form a single line of frosting underneath the rest of the name (first and last). After doing such, he then stopped and cut the frosting. Having finished with his momentary experiment, he then offered the frosting bag back to its owner.

"I assure you, Miss Namid, I have never written with frosting prior to today. You are quite kind to compliment my efforts." However, in all honesty, it could have looked much better. His attention to detail could sometimes be more of an annoyance than anything. So right now he was noticing how the D was drawn as tall as the capital letters, which was all wrong. The letter D was supposed to be shorter than a capital letter when in its lowercase form. Would Howl mention any of these imperfections to this young lady? It would have been impolite to say something so self centered at the moment. The faintest hint of discontent he'd show was by allowing his fingers to drift up to touch the edges of his earring that dangled from his left ear.

"I will confess that I may be at an advantage though. I have been practicing fencing since I was a child, Miss Namid. Sword play, so to speak. I tend to have a rather steady hand for more delicate tasks." He tilted his head slightly with a faint smile. "However, there is the saying that practice makes perfect, correct?"

The fact the girl asked about the amount of danger in fencing was an easy signal that she was not completely familiar with the sport. He didn't let it show that he had noticed, remaining politely smiling with that attentive look in his eyes. In an easy tone, he merely offered an explanation.

"Fencing is far from dangerous in all honesty. There is plenty of gear that a fencer must wear to protect him-or-her-self. The base uniform is made of a sturdy material, one that is very difficult to tear. A fencer is also required to wear a protective mask. The weapons, the foil, sabre, or épée are also pretty flimsy and dull most times. I would only imagine fencing to be dangerous if real bladed weapons were used."

He briefly nodded, knowing that fencing was less likely the result in a major injury, like in American Football. "Fencing is far too strict a sport to really result in any serious injuries due to any mishaps in a match. I honestly would think it to be a rather safe sport." Perhaps he removed the excitement from the idea of swordplay, but he was not about to deceive this young lady over something such as his choice of sport.