Leather and fine wine

[shardofwinter]

The days are getting darker, the air has started to bite. Naturally this means that a certain Winter spirit is starting to brighten. With Hazel's beautiful influence all around him, he's been spurred on to keep busy and ready himself to do an equally (if not better) job. While people may have seen him marching around the Nexus, often with full arms, today he's taking the time to stay in the Nexus to do a little work. Back on his world the weather took a turn into torrential rain. Here, however, it's dry. Cold, blustery, but dry.

Reynard has his trademark leather coat spread out on one of the tables in the Plaza. Two pairs of boots are waiting on the ground, one pair noticeably newer and smaller than the other. His feathered hat rests on one of the chairs, carefully weighted down with a brush. Perhaps it's no surprise then that Reynard is dressed rather lightly then, with his coat all laid out. It's around this table that Reynard moves, brushing and wiping and occasionally taking a sip from a cup. Those who approach will be met with the rich scent of mulled wine and the more cloying smell of whatever he's using to treat the leather.

Finally he pauses for a moment, thinking over his cup before asking, "What is your least desirable quality? What could you stand to improve about yourself?"

Comments

[sweetcandygirl]

"You keep on saying that my answer is not good enough to your standards. And I ain't changing my answer just so you can be satisfied with it. It is not what I think or feel... And if you want that to be good enough for you to dodge my questions back... fine with me."

"So we can both be hypocritical." She smiles.

[shardofwinter]

"'My standards'," he repeats. "That's what suggests you consider me to be unfair, or unkind. I'm not judging you, or making you adhere to 'my standards'. I'm asking you simple, straightforward questions, but you don't like them, so you lay the fault with me. With 'my standards'. Which they're not. I am simply trying to unravel this contradictory mess you've put in front of me."

[sweetcandygirl]

"Nope. Don't consider you unfair or unkind either. You really like insulting yourself, dontcha? What else you got?"

"And I have given you answers to your questions. That you don't like. So you lay the fault with me."

[shardofwinter]

"It's not that I don't like them. It's more than they don't make any sense. It's like me asking you your favourite colour and you saying 'lasagne' and then insisting that because lasagne has a colour, several in fact, that it's an acceptable answer."

[sweetcandygirl]

"In this place... where so many different worlds connect... how could you be so certain that there ain't a color called lasagne in someone's world? I am sure I could find a color called lasagne in a Crayola pack back home..."

"Just because it is an answer that doesn't make sense to you does not make it wrong. It is good that you are honest about the fact that you disagree with my answers... because you are entitled to your own opinion. But we ain't getting anywhere by you trying to convince me to change my mind about my opinion."

"We have a difference in interpretation. It happens."

[shardofwinter]

"A difference in interpretation?" He stares at her incredulously for a pointed moment. "You're saying that our understanding of this language is different at its very core. If telling you 'I rowed a boat to the Australian islands' means 'tornados speak five languages' then we can't exactly hold a conversation."

"In which case, there's no point talking any further, since I'm wasting my breath speaking a language you can't understand." Taking a deep breath, he shakes his head and waves a hand to dismiss her.

[sweetcandygirl]

"Well I hope you do find someone who will answer your question exactly in the way you want. And that you get to smile at the end of it."

"Have a great night!" She smiles at him. Then heads off on her way.