till you get to the Bottomland

BASTIEN

'Cause you've got a mind that is so hell bent on
Fixing me up before I get my coat off

Bastien had his own melancholy worries; Azrael had left home, meaning he was now on his own for the majority of his time and he seemed to be having something of an art block, most paintings he did ending up tossed aside after a few failed strokes towards something better. When he received notice to come to a council meeting he was glad for the chance at a distraction, to feel like he had something significant to do; over time, he was beginning to understand why Rexanna had loved all her responsibilities.

Arriving at the Theskyra house, he headed to the council room. Dressed casually as always in bright, airy clothing and with his usual tousled hair, the artist absolutely did not look the part of an advisor, but his eyes were quick and sharp, ready to deal with whatever had come up.

"Wessex. I hope nothing has gone wrong?" He asked, going to sit and raising his eyebrows at her. Bastien had hoped for at least a season past Longnight to relax, but the Grounds often didn't allow such luxuries.

You with those hands that are so hell bent on
Making a mess to suggest you'd think something