The movement was familiar and was almost, for just a moment, greeted with a smile. "I am called Cynric," he answered, leaving out his title, his lineage. Here, he didn't want to be Firstborn or Prince. He merely wanted to be a youth of his true age. "My lir is Lorrin."
"And what is it I should call you?" he asked as Lorrin watched the man curiously from his place.
He didn't move from his lir's side, but he did contemplate the stranger with yellow eyes. You speak the language of beasts - or some beasts, he said - both in cat, for Yrael, and over the lir-link, for Cynric.
It drew Cynric's attention quite quickly. "Lorrin? Your meaning?"
Iris grins slyly and thinks for a moment. She puts the book down carefully and tries to remember something. There is the faint sound of a vibraphone in a odd tune. Iris begins to sing softly, but with perfect pitch.
I need some sleep. You can’t go on like this. I try counting sheep, But there’s one I always miss.
Everyone says, "I’m getting down too low" Everyone says, "You just gotta let it go" You just gotta let it go You just gotta let it go
I need some sleep time to put the old horse down I’m in too deep and the wheels keep spinning round
Everyone says, "I’m getting down too low" Everyone says, "You just gotta let it go" You just gotta let it go You just gotta let it go
Iris decides to annoy him a bit longer with some more music that she memorized. She focuses and several violins, cellos, and a string bass begin to play "Air on a G String" perfectly balanced. Iris closes her eyes to concentrate on lining all the pitches up perfectly. Her hand sweeps in tiny motions above her lap, as if she were conducting.
A black kitten pounces on Yrael's stomach and hops up to bat Yrael's hat. Iris' invisible hand tugs his hat up to uncover one eye. "Sleep can't be that much fun..." she says playfully.
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*unnaturally green eyes focus on the young man with a lion* Good evening.
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*In the language of cats, which is mostly indecipherable by humans...* A pleasure to meet you, Lorrin.
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He didn't move from his lir's side, but he did contemplate the stranger with yellow eyes. You speak the language of beasts - or some beasts, he said - both in cat, for Yrael, and over the lir-link, for Cynric.
It drew Cynric's attention quite quickly. "Lorrin? Your meaning?"
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*Huzzah for leaving off titles.*
*grinning* Some beasts, indeed. I can speak most dialects of the language of Cats.
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"Indeed odd," murmured Cynric. But he shook his head. "But then, not all here come from our lands. A scant few - but not all."
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as a cat.*What lands are yours where lions are unknown?
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*His eyes sweep the bar and land on an entering figure.*
Ah, I am sorry, Cynric. I must cut this short. It was a pleasure meeting you. And you, Lorrin.
*He stands.*
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And he turned his attention elsewhere, taking no offense at the man taking his leave.
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*He doesn't even open his eyes.* Care to keep it down, Iris?
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I need some sleep.
You can’t go on like this.
I try counting sheep,
But there’s one I always miss.
Everyone says, "I’m getting down too low"
Everyone says, "You just gotta let it go"
You just gotta let it go
You just gotta let it go
I need some sleep
time to put the old horse down
I’m in too deep
and the wheels keep spinning round
Everyone says, "I’m getting down too low"
Everyone says, "You just gotta let it go"
You just gotta let it go
You just gotta let it go
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...better....
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*After the song is over, he pauses.* Illusions can be alright, sometimes, I guess.
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That's what I said.
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kittenhand from his hatbrim.*You wouldn't know, now would you?
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Poor you, Iris. Poor you. My heart
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*And sees someone enter.*
You'll have to pardon me, Iris. I see a friend I must talk with.
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