"Uhh, not at the moment. Some of these ideas are really good, so I guess I just got lazy, as usual, and figured that one idea was good enough," he said with a sarcastic smile aimed Lily's way. "And I haven't told you to stop because it's cute coming from you."
"Cute?" She blinked, glancing up at him for a moment as a light pink dusted her cheeks. "Er-you were right, it was a good idea though. Kids'll find it enjoyable, while their parents will be happy they're learning a valuable skill."
He smiled at her slight blush, as well as her words. "Glad I can use my brain for things other than sneaking around," he said, then went back to the papers. andrew (Our Supreme Lord and Overseer) Giles, you sir are a greedy pain in my ass, Rhydar mentally grumbled, tossing some more papers into his 'hello no' pile—which was formed courtesy of Mr. Giles.
After a little while of quiet reading and sorting, Lily began to hum softly, a subconscious habit she had lost quite a while ago and was only now starting to see again. Nope. Yes. Yes. Maybe. Absolutely not.
After a few minutes of quiet reading and sorting, Rhydar set down the final paper and stretched, throwing his head back as he let out a small whine. "Ahhh, finally. How you doing over there?" he asked her, looking back down at Lily.
Lily's humming stopped as she glanced up, before looking back down at the paper she'd been reading for the past minute. "Almost done. Just trying to figure out how exactly this plan is supposed to benefit anyone, and how it would even work." She scrunched up her nose, shaking her head.
"Then scratch it. If it doesn't make sense or isn't beneficial, then just toss it. I don't need a whole lot of things going on anyway, and I think we got enough things to go through to narrow it down from there," he said. He reached up to brush his fingers over the leaf shading him, smiling softly as he felt the thin layer of fuzz coating the purplish plant.
"Oh, thank the gods." She let out a sigh, tossing the paper unceremoniously onto the nope pile and making quick work of the last few papers. "There. All that's left is to go through any maybes, but you should take a break for a bit." She said, turning her gaze to a patch of flowers near the pathway.
He glanced over at Lily and noticed where her attention had been diverted. "Feel free to explore this place. It's huge, and it also has other stuff beyond where the paths are laid out. If you ask me, the best stuff is the hidden stuff," he said with a shrug.
"I would most definitely get lost if I attempted that." She said, shaking her head as she smiled. "Besides, I would much rather spend time with you, as long as I'm not in the way of anything." She pulled her eyes from the flowers to smile at him.
He smiled and shook his head, moving so that he was sitting next to her. "You're not in the way of anything," he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "And I'm glad you enjoy spending so much time with me. Sure beats the screaming ducks and geese," he joked.
"Ducks can be incredibly noisy." She said, nodding solemnly. The effect was sort of ruined by her smile, which had brightened as he moved closer. Shifting, she pressed her shoulder slightly against his, looking up at him. "They have many things to say."
"Mmm," he hummed, smiling as well. "And what would those things be?" he asked, tilting his head. He was partly humoring her, partly curious as to what she'd say. It also didn't help that he was ecstatic that she had moved closer—like a kid in a candy store, as his older brother would say.
"It depends entirely on the duck." She said knowingly. "My family had ducks, and they tended to yell a lot about food, mostly when they wanted said food. Other ducks might yell about ducks. Or just because they feel like they need to be loud."
He raised a brow, looking genuinely intrigued. "You speak duck?" he asked disbelievingly—though in a more impressed disbelieving than an 'I legit don't believe you' disbelieving. "And–wait, what? Why would they yell about ducks?"
"They yell about each other. When another duck makes them mad, the same way a human would." She said, tilting her head. "Er-kind of. It's more…a feeling thing, and understanding certain movements and noises, but I can usually tell what they're trying to get across."
"Ah," he said, nodding his head. "That makes more sense. So is it with other animals as well? Or people?" he asked, tilting his head curiously. He was interested in learning more about Lily, and this was definitely more interesting than sorting through a bunch of papers with fancy words and complicated plans that could be explained in two sentences.
"Most animals are pretty easy to read, when you pair the general knowledge and the…extra ability." She said, shrugging the shoulder that wasn't pressed against his. "It helps that I grew up raising animals. You kind of get to know things like that, you know?"
He nodded, thinking about Kaspa. "Yeah, I know horses pretty well, thanks to raising Kaspa, but beyond that, I have no clue." He sighed and tilted his head back to rest against a thick tree trunk at their backs. "I can only imagine a life outside of the one I've lived. I can't exactly assume that your life was particularly easy, but I envy those that have easier—simpler—lives than mine. Who knows how I would've ended up like if I'd been, say, a farmer."
"You could've ended up very much like I was, then. Or at least, what I would have been. That's what my mother was, and my sisters and I by default." She said, staying fairly upright. After a moment of thought, she slipped the photo from her pocket, fiddling with it. "Imagining you as a farmer, I must admit, is slightly amusing. What would you steal? Eggs from chickens?"
He snorted and poked her side. "Would not. It's no fun. I'd likely steal the eggs from my neighbors." He grinned cheekily, holding back his laughter—though just barely. "And what's so funny about thinking about me as a farmer?" he then challenged playfully, poking her side again.
At the poke to her side, Lily let out a small squeak, shifting away just barely, more out of habit than anything. She…might have been a little bit ticklish. "You can't steal eggs from your neighbors! They raised those chickens themselves!" She said, shaking her head and letting out the same noise as he poked her again. "You just don't quite seem like the type."
He pouted when she shifted away some and said that he couldn't steal. "So? It's more fun than stealing my own eggs. That's like stealing your own cookies that you've made." He then scoffed, clutching at his chest in mock hurt. "How dare you. I'd make the perfect farmer, thank you very much."
"Not if you're going to steal other people's eggs, you wouldn't." She said, raising an eyebrow at him. Without the threat of being poked in the side anymore, she scooted back into place, shaking her head. "You really aren't at all attached to this life? The easy luxury? The safety, and the promise of no work?"
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the sky beyond the glass dome. "I dunno… I've never really fit here, y'know? I'm a troublemaker, always looking for danger to…get something out of my life besides sitting on my ass, twiddling my thumbs, and letting people wait on me hand and foot. It's not me. I need to do something. I want to work for what I make, not just be born into easy money. That might be why I steal, might not, who knows? But…" he trailed off. He pulled his legs up and rested his arms against his knees, sighing and dropping his head into his arms.