Willfur
It's the first time he's been asked about himself in so long, since coming to Novus, in fact. Passers by are always delighted by the opportunity to sit at the center of attention, content to answer question after question - and he never runs out of them - to narrate their own stories from their own perspectives in front of an interested audience. Maybe it's vanity, maybe it's the eternal search for meaning and validity in life, or maybe it's just that he doesn't look like a very intriguing character himself, with his course features and plain outline, but whatever the reason, having the tables turned is a rare and pleasant surprise. He's happy to answer, happy to revisit that time and place, even if only for a moment.
"My mother's herd was called Silvertree, because our home was dotted with birch forests. Not a very creative naming convention, I know, but there weren't gods and goddesses to dedicate things to there, not that we knew of, and the forests really were stunning." He smiles, eyes softening in recollection and focusing on some landscape far past the Library or young Warden. "White trunks shaded yellow and green under springtime growth, contrasting the reds and oranges of autumn, creating an entirely black and white landscape in winter. I haven't been back there in many years, but I think of it fondly." Pausing, he shakes his head a little sadly, ears swinging loosely atop his head. "I'm not sure I even could go back, now. I was travelling south when I crossed the Eluetheria Plain, but when I turned around and went north again, all I found was the sea."
Finally he returns to the office, blinking away more scenes, more explanations for questions that haven't been asked, questions of his own crowding at the tip of his tongue, but the winged stallion is visibly tense, jaw locked in what the mule can only assume is annoyance at best, and fury at worst. He doesn't seem like the type to pour his heart out to anyone, let alone a bare acquaintance, and he probably doesn't appreciate others doing it around him, but he had asked. "I'm sorry, I know you're a busy man and I don't mean to ramble. I can certainly do some cleaning. What did you have in mind?" Taking a step back, he clears the threshold so that Andras can pass, assuming from the relative organization inside the study that they'll be going somewhere else.
"talk talk talk"
@
