ORIGIN

Tourmaline has to agree with East. Taking at least some care is far better than running in with no regard for anything. And while she admits she has done the latter sometimes, not like she'll admit that to a new aquaintance. "Anything can happen and you can't prepare for everything, but you can at least stay on your toes."

She takes another piece of meat herself, eating it while East continues talking. "Yeah, perhaps. I'm lucky I managed to get away with this," Tourmaline chuckles, tilting her head at the platter. "It is nice. I haven't really heard much in the way of music before. Haven't seen such big instruments like those either. You learn something every day, I guess."

"Yeah," East said, chuckling as well, "you're right there. It's a first seeing pipes outside a fella's throat."

From where he sat across from Tourmaline, a partial view was afforded of the orchestra playing more than a few good stones' throw away. Just over her shoulder, a member of it could be seen, clarinet in hands and red-faced while they blew into its mouthpiece. No small wonder why, playing without a single break in sight. He almost wished he could pull a magic trick and funnel air back up the instrument's bell to replenish the poor soul's taxed lungs. At least that'd be preferable to seeing their head boil for the sake of everyone else's entertainment.

He pointed, then opened his fist to gesture at an entire section of the performers.

"Much less a whole fleet of 'em. All far nicer sounding than mine too, though I doubt that's much competition. Damned sure the best thing I ever managed to serenade was a rat, and I dare say their echoing beat me at it."

She playfully rolls her eyes, laughing at the way he stated it. "Or ones that big, for that matter," she tacks on, grinning. It's quite impressive, the large amount of people all gathered just to play music.

"At least you had an audience. The rat must have had a very good show," she tries to encourage, leaning to the side in her seat. "He can tell all his rat buddies how cool you are."

"Oh, he has bragging rights, that's for sure." East waved his hand dismissively. "The first ever to capture the unique sound of someone drowning on land. Guaranteed to make all the other grays jealous."

Every syllable that flowed past lips was drawn out into a low sarcasm-soaked drawl. If one were attentive, they might notice the concentration of self-criticism to be far more dilute than ears initially heard, evidenced in the easy slump of shoulders and the unsoured expression on his face. In truth, being such a recluse, he'd be hard-pressed to provide an accurate score of musical ability. Cavern echoes and snippets of lyrics from roving Lesser packs didn't establish much of a baseline for decent birdsong.

Being far from your standard canary, it'd just always seemed appropriate to assume he hadn't been bestowed with the right vocals for charming the feathers off anybody else. Same as how his talons demonstrated themselves time and again to be better suited for tearing apart instead of building.

"Not that it'd be too special in the long run. Once one rat copies you, the rest can't help but take a piece of your voice as well. Wouldn't be surprised if you've heard a few seconds of me choking on air in passing. My apologies for your ears."

A hand brought to her mouth hides Tourmaline's playful smile, even if there isn't much point to it. She is laughing, after all. Maybe it's just her trying to polite.

She's greatly enjoying this conversation, and the light mood in the atmosphere. So much more calming then the skirmishes she'd been a part of shortly before. The Hive is almost completely forgotten as she banters with her new companion.

"Ah, all the rats want to be just like you? Well, they say imitation is a form of flattery, or something. Not exactly sure how it goes, myself," she offers, leaning forward with a grin. "But I'll have to keep an ear out, see what they have to say about you."

At that, East cocked his head to the side. For a split second, the beginnings of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a witty rejoinder bashing against teeth to try and reach open air. He must've thought better of it because those words never came, perhaps taken back and revised for another more suitable situation. Instead a mockingly skeptical eyebrow raised, threatening to disappear under the dark brim of his hat.

"The effort's appreciated, but I doubt you'll glean much. Not much to interpret from, well..."

A mixture of feigned and genuine sheepishness led to a surreptitious glance at surroundings. Determining enough guests were minding their own business to entertain more blatant comedy than he typically chose, he turned back to Tourmaline, face solemn—and issued a gargling noise from the back of his throat.

Then, rubbing a hand at his windpipe, he cleared it and fell back into conversation. "I'm sure you've plenty of talents, but dying fish isn't exactly a common language. And, while you probably can't tell, I'm not a native speaker."

"Unless I am severely underestimating your skills there?"

She'd laugh at East's interpretation of "dying fish," as he put it. Luckily for him, their antics don't seem to attract the attention of the other party-goers.

"I don't really know any languages other than the common one, so your fishy secrets are safe for now," she muses, rocking in the seat. "My skills more pertain to the magical side of things. That, or curating a growing collection of trinkets I've stashed away. Some of the gems and other things have to have a use, right?"

Her den in Polaris had become quite a home in the cycles past. A safe place to return to after a long day hunting.

While calling this moment the discovery of a kindred spirit would have been a stretch, no better phrase likely could have described the knowing nod East used to receive Tourmaline's comments. The new facet of herself she'd presented to him was a more mystically inclined mirror of one of his own, and so the territory they tread together now felt steady and sure underfoot. Familiarity invited presumption, whether misguided or not, coaxing elbows and upper torso to lean in closer over the table.

Before caution could temper thought, he teased, "A bit of a hoarding habit, eh? You might have to worry about a red mouse problem over my rat one."

"I don't know about the magical side of things, but in my experience, enough thinking guarantees you can find a purpose for most anything. If not the actual one, you can always expect some sap to be charmed just enough to want a piece. Because, you see, it'll make his eyes sparkle that much better."

He said the last bit in a way absolutely ill-suited for the worn features of his face: chin settling upon laced fingers, eyelashes batted in a dramatic show of self-infatuation. A perfect portrait of a smitten narcissist if it weren't for the person modelling it.

The banter the two of them shared was an easy and comfortable rhythm for Tourmaline - one she'd settled into quite quickly. "Hoarding, ha, yes, you could say that," she'd laugh back, feigning embarrassment to play along. "I haven't seen that many mice trying to make off with their prizes, but maybe they're more clever than I thought."

She'd laugh at East's display of mock conceit. "Ah yes, can't forget that. If I can't get creative, 'gifts' work wonders too," Tourmaline would say, leaving whether she meant 'gift' or 'bribe' up for interpretation. Though honestly, she could see a bit of both in her future.

"The shinier the better," East quipped. "You can always trust that the fellas concerned about appearance want the flashiest bauble available. Helps distract from their drab personality."

To cap his point, he ran fingers across his palm to pluck another slice of meat from it. Well, he would've if not for the fact every bit had been polished off during the course of their lighthearted back-and-forth. Tracing the lines etched into skin, nothing else could be done but to chuckle and play off surprise at the suddenly absent food. Shoulders shrugged while he showcased the empty hand with a casual wave.

"And it seems talk distracts me from my appetite. Goes to show how easy redirecting someone's attention is. Just need to have the right bait: a good gab in my case."