they will shake their heads and wag their fingers
by daybreak we'll be gone
As he let go of her hand Bastien tilted his head, considering what she had said; he'd never really thought of it, had just shook hands when he arrived and assumed all had known what he'd meant; had everyone just been playing along? "They certainly were where I came from." He settled on saying with a smile, nodding to acknowledge her name.Another newcomer, from her words; there seemed to be a lot recently. The Voice was drawing more and more in. Bastien was always glad to see a new face, especially one in his Sanctuary, but he did wonder what they needed the new hands for. He watched her go to his painting, happy to see that some of the fresh Outlanders appreciated the better things in life. "Ah, yes. I arrived just as unexpectantly almost three years ago now." Around that long, anyway: it was growing hard to remember, as much as he would have once found that hard to believe.
"I am painting something to hang in my bedroom that will remind me of my wife, without being so painful as her portrait." He explained, turning back to the canvas and adding in a daub of gold. "She died last year...gold was her favourite colour, and deep blue is mine."
BASTIEN
