He blinked, hesitating, and looked between the pen and clipboard and the human, briefly.
He wanted him... to write? He actually had to think about that for just a second; how long had it been since he'd held an instrument like that? Did he still remember how? He was sure he did, but....
"You ought to write, if you want to be able to read it afterwards," was what he ended up deciding on. Maybe if he'd practiced a bit first.... But he hadn't yet. More than that, would the human be able to read anything he'd write, given what language he'd be writing in?
He moved to inspect one of the last boxes they'd moved to the pile, leaning down to see better where a corner of the cardboard was beginning to split apart. It had gotten worse since he'd set it down; surely it would work to set its contents onto the shelves, and leave this falling-apart container empty?
He straightened back up and carefully picked at the tape holding the top shut... and slowed subtly as another thought finally occurred to him. He hadn't questioned how Foulques and Morgana had been able to converse with him; he'd expected them to. A common language made that easy, after all. But this human? For that matter, the other ones out on the shore...?
But if they all knew it, then someone had taught them, which implied a good few other things about them... implied a good few other good things about them. But that, then, left more than a few questions about the entire encounter there on the shore, and what the debate had really been about in the first place. And this train of thought... honestly, as confusing as it was, he was a little more relaxed in his body language even by the time he set the wet tape aside on the nearest shelf's corner. He pulled the flaps open to peek inside and pulled out something from the top of it, holding it up so the old human could see as he looked it over himself as well.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-01-04 07:11 am (UTC)He wanted him... to write? He actually had to think about that for just a second; how long had it been since he'd held an instrument like that? Did he still remember how? He was sure he did, but....
"You ought to write, if you want to be able to read it afterwards," was what he ended up deciding on. Maybe if he'd practiced a bit first.... But he hadn't yet. More than that, would the human be able to read anything he'd write, given what language he'd be writing in?
He moved to inspect one of the last boxes they'd moved to the pile, leaning down to see better where a corner of the cardboard was beginning to split apart. It had gotten worse since he'd set it down; surely it would work to set its contents onto the shelves, and leave this falling-apart container empty?
He straightened back up and carefully picked at the tape holding the top shut... and slowed subtly as another thought finally occurred to him. He hadn't questioned how Foulques and Morgana had been able to converse with him; he'd expected them to. A common language made that easy, after all. But this human? For that matter, the other ones out on the shore...?
But if they all knew it, then someone had taught them, which implied a good few other things about them... implied a good few other good things about them. But that, then, left more than a few questions about the entire encounter there on the shore, and what the debate had really been about in the first place. And this train of thought... honestly, as confusing as it was, he was a little more relaxed in his body language even by the time he set the wet tape aside on the nearest shelf's corner. He pulled the flaps open to peek inside and pulled out something from the top of it, holding it up so the old human could see as he looked it over himself as well.