they will shake their heads and wag their fingers
by daybreak we'll be gone
"Perhaps I simply like staying inside." Bastien put forward to Oia, now a little tired of debating whether or not the sun was dangerous. She clearly did not have much experience of the Ascended (or, well, nuance) and it was becoming obvious that arguing with her was a lost cause.Pittore clutched possessively onto his wool, only frowning as Oia and Kaimana both told him off for not answering questions. With a loud defiant squeak he sat down, little eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "Ah." Said Bastien. "I believed he has answered your questions. You simply did not understand the answers...and he's rather irritated you suggested his wool was not lovely as it is."
At least Kaimana wanted to hear about his paintings. With a smile he looked over to the wall, gesturing to each painting on it. "This is not only my work, you see. This collection here is the work of many different people in our town. Melita painted that --" He pointed to a painting of a sun over a desert, an oasis pool shining in the light. "--I like to gather people who have not had much of a chance to explore creative expression before and show them how freeing it can be. The purpose is to give the people here an outlet and to collect a catalogue of work. To see what the artistic vision of the town is...what they believe, what they want to see. You can tell a lot from a painting."
BASTIEN
