They stepped out of the way as the provost opened the door, already chiding themselves for not thinking of that before now. "Oh, I'm Quanil, sir." They followed dutifully down the stairs. "I spent most of my time in the Fields, but I can read and do my numbers, and I always work really hard, and..."
Everything else got lost when they got down to the Great Guild Hall of the Loreseekers. Quanil stopped dead and stared, wide-eyed, at all the books. The warmth of the fire, the geode's light reflecting off of the mirrors - of course they wouldn't have just normal candles and sconces! - the shelves and shelves... The fact that some of them were empty just excited them more, because it spoke of everything yet to be learned.
They were wandering towards one of the bookshelves when the provost spoke again. Frey's tit, what did he say?! I wasn't paying attention. Just got here and already mucking up. ...and that perhaps was not a phrase they should say out loud.
But they caught the last question and the provost was gesturing to the chairs, so... "Oh, of course. I'm..." They hesitated to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs, feeling as if they might dirty the upholstery even though their pants were clean (clean as they could get, anyway). They sat delicately, as if to leave as little impression on the chair as possible. "I-I'm Quanil, grew up in the Fields. Mom made sure I knew how to do my letters and numbers, and after that I just couldn't stop reading. Uh, I can copy, too, as far as writing goes, but I'm not... y'know." They gestured to the books. "I'm not a writer."
Everything else got lost when they got down to the Great Guild Hall of the Loreseekers. Quanil stopped dead and stared, wide-eyed, at all the books. The warmth of the fire, the geode's light reflecting off of the mirrors - of course they wouldn't have just normal candles and sconces! - the shelves and shelves... The fact that some of them were empty just excited them more, because it spoke of everything yet to be learned.
They were wandering towards one of the bookshelves when the provost spoke again. Frey's tit, what did he say?! I wasn't paying attention. Just got here and already mucking up. ...and that perhaps was not a phrase they should say out loud.
But they caught the last question and the provost was gesturing to the chairs, so... "Oh, of course. I'm..." They hesitated to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs, feeling as if they might dirty the upholstery even though their pants were clean (clean as they could get, anyway). They sat delicately, as if to leave as little impression on the chair as possible. "I-I'm Quanil, grew up in the Fields. Mom made sure I knew how to do my letters and numbers, and after that I just couldn't stop reading. Uh, I can copy, too, as far as writing goes, but I'm not... y'know." They gestured to the books. "I'm not a writer."
