[se] you don't have to believe me

Harper

I was born in a big gray cloud screaming out a love song

Her disbelief should be offensive, but it's plainly not. Harper has had more than his fair share of narrowed eyes, disbelieving snorts, and less-than-muttered accusations of simplicity, stupidity, or naivety. He doesn't mind. He has seen horrible, horrible things - and done far worse. Devoting his life to happiness and the simple joys in life is the best reward he can think for himself. "I am! Have been for a long time now, myself and my friend Ray. She's also our local herbalist, and I'm a teacher." Because he can tell a visitor when he sees one (given he knows just about everybody with his constant socializing and patrolling) and there's no harm in giving her a leg up on connections.

Laughing, he waves away her awkward, abandoned prelude to an apology. "No worries, I hear it a lot. I'm far too chipper for Caido's brand of angst and suspicion." He says the last three words in the same way an embarrassing dad would say 'spoooooky noises' at a campfire spinning a bad rendition of a horror story.

At her clear attempt at a distraction Harper obligingly turns and begins helping scan the racks and cubbies, using his height to his advantage to find her requested lace sitting on a taller shelf. "Doesn't look like a lot of options for that color, but there's this," he offers, pulling it down for her and handing it over.

among broken chords and unnamed cries -
what a place to come from