☿
There were a few moments where it seemed Saej had decided to assess the pale elf. There was no unnatural sense of being watched, but once he'd become aware of her gaze on him it had become difficult to think of her watching anyone other than himself. He tried to remain focused on the work at hand, adding another stroke to the steadily covered canvas. She spoke again, this time discussing the general concept of artists and how many of them would maniacally tear at their own works until they had achieved some degree of perfection. Saej admitted in the end that it was possible that was simply a fiction she had observed as a child, though, and Althalos questioned whether there was any validity at all in the perception.
"I think I would hate to destroy something I've created. Even a lack of perfection can be beautiful." He spoke, offering another gentle smile to Saej and a sharp glance at the moon as it bore down with its immense light. Incidentally, he felt confident that he had managed to ascertain her proportions relative to the lunar body, and had captured the shade necessary to indicate the luminary's glow. In the meantime, she spoke of her initiation into the arcane arts, and Althalos found himself listening to her story more than painting, apparently drawn to the idea of something new. He'd read very little material about magic and its many uses, though he'd heard fantastic stories hither and thither.
"What type do you have?" He questioned when she had finished with her story. "It sounds very dangerous to meddle with such things. Are they all that way, or was yours just particularly hazardous?" He pried further, his fascination growing with every word spoken about the mysticism. His mention of the wolfman seemed to roll well with the conversation, though her indication that such a thing wasn't uncommon was unnerving. "Do you often see men turning into wolves?" He queried with a touch of playful sarcasm.
She spoke further about the acquisition of a dress, a beautiful one that she had managed to uncover somewhere within the town. Saej even offered to demonstrate the article of cloth to the corpse, though he wasn't certain he would be terribly excited by a clump of fabric. Nevertheless, he offered a polite nod of acceptance and a smile. "Of course. I'd love to see it." He couldn't care less in truth, but if his friend enjoyed it, he supposed that he would try to imitate that enthusiasm.
There was a sudden snort, and Althalos followed her gaze and direction to a fallen drunk. He offered a brief chortle at the expense of the fellow before glancing back at Saej in time for her to mention the late hours. It was obvious to him that she didn't want to stay any longer, that he had finally worn down her patience for the matter, and that the living portion of her was still desirous of rest and recuperation. "I'm sure I can finish on my own if you'd like to go back down. Thank you for coming with me tonight. Your presence was appreciated." He spoke, taking a step back to look at the painting -- it was nearing completion, but would still need a few touchups here and there. "I'll leave the painting on the desk for you to look at in the morning. Goodnight, Saej."
Credit to Saej!
