I will refrain & be the song [SEASONAL EVENT]

remi Took a fall from a windy height, I only knew how to hold on tight & pray for love enough to last all night "Busy?" Remi grinned, running a hand through his curls. "Yes...there was quite a bit going on." For a moment he tried to catch Sam's eye, unsure whether he should mention that which had been on his mind the day in the book. Given how awkward this encounter was shaping up to be, perhaps he should wait? Sitting across from Sam, Remi shook his head at the offered compliment as a boyishly warm smile spread across his face. "I have never worn armour before." He admitted without hesitation, grinning down into his cup with a small shrug. "Nor wielded a sword. Back home, people like me...well." Raising his hands and wiggling his fingers slightly, he laughed. "There is a reason I learned to work with my hands and nothing else." Listening as Sam sketched around an answer, the alchemist nodded gently. He wasn't sure whether or not he should have asked, and given the way Sam's blue eyes looked forlornly into the liquid, he decided that he should not have. But then the man's questions caught him off-guard, and Remi blinked several times in surprise. He was no wordsmith—not even close—but for Sam of course he would try. "The tea is one of my own special blends. When you sip it, at first you will just taste warm water. Then suddenly there will be...ahh..like a flourishing on your tongue and at the back of your mouth. The taste will grow so large you will almost be tempted to open your mouth to let it escape. The taste is sweet, but not sugary. More like...a sort of flower." With a humble sort of smile, Remi gave the man a sideways glance as he considered. "Yes. It is a dry cold here I have found. The air feels...empty." Raising his hands, he touched his own cheeks which were still a tad chilled and pink from having been outside. "The sun is sometimes quite bright, but it is not warm." Offering the ascended a small shrug, Remi rolled his teacup in his hands. Conjuring a feather in his hands—though whether it was creation magic or if he'd actually plucked one of his own feathers was hard to say—he handed it across the table towards Sam. Creating (or plucking) another one, Remi ran the vein of it across his palm, and then up each finger, smiling a little as he did so. "This is one of my favourite things to feel." He explained gently. "It helps to calm my mind."