ice age heat wave
#11
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Ari never minded listening to people. He wasn't exactly a thrilling conversationalist, but he was a hell of a good listener. There wasn't a word that tumbled from Legacy's mouth that he didn't take in completely. He never looked bored or annoyed with her — more interested and fascinated. No one had ever opened up to him like this back home. Hell, no one had barely talked to him back there. This place was so odd. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get it, but he was trying to learn. She continued on about books, and he shrugged as she continued. 'S nice, but books don't do me too much good, he mumbled, not even sure she heard him between her own speech. He didn't mind. He wasn't exactly proud of his illiteracy.


The conversation took a quick pause and Ari imagined he could see the wheels and cogs in Legacy's head spinning, going much quicker than his thoughts had moved. If Ari's thought process was anything, it was ponderous and careful. Her next words surprised him, and he shook his head gently. N-No, you're not in my way. Or stopping me. I wasn't really doing anything t'start with. He paused awkwardly, fiddling with the clasp on his paint flask once more. You could help me look for something to c-color my paint with, though. I'm not really used to forests like this. The mixture of coniferous and deciduous trees in Jaded Shadows were very different from the solemn willows and cypresses of the marshlands.

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