<3333~ Rio is sweet. ^_^
It was rare for the tawny-furred youth to have sought the outside world prior to speaking with Cerridwyn, the first time he'd spoken to someone not in his family. Larkspur didn't count—even if Harlowe hadn't known he was family at first, he was still family. Prior to speaking with Cerri, however, Harlowe had never uttered a single word to anyone outside of his immediate family and Larkspur—even during the family meeting in Crimson Dreams, Harlowe had been too overwhelmed by how many of them there were to utter a single word, and so that portion of his family had not heard hims speak, either.
“I wanted to take some books home, so I won't be departing until it has stopped,” he said matter-of-factly. It was not worth it to him to have come all the way out here and not take a few home with him. “I'll return them,” he said, motioning to the pile of books he'd selected to bring with him. There were three or four in a haphazard stack on the desk. He shrugged his shoulders at her question. “The same,” the youth commented. He was never very good or very bad, it seemed—there was a strange apathy about Harlowe, though he had felt emotion boiling and brewing beneath the surface of things before, and so he knew he was not broken. Nervousness had overtaken him before, and so he knew he could feel things—it just seemed as if only the most powerful ones had any serious effect.
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