Kijani quieted as the ride back to Mr. Croil's home began. She could tell he wasn't on board with the whole reading thing, and she was sorry she'd said it. It was maybe implying that readers were better than people who didn't read. While she was a touch surprised that Feather couldn't read, Mr. Croil's explanation made perfect sense. If the citizens of Arbordale were too busy for that kind of thing, to simply sit and dream, then... well, that meant they were working hard. Who was she to say that they were missing out? Maybe she was missing something by not having something more concrete to do.

As they went along down the road, the cart bumping and rumbling, they would occasionally bump each other. She was getting more warm with each accidental touch. Part of her, a very unused part of her, was very aware of his solidity and strength beside her. Unfortunately she really had no idea what to do with that feeling. All she knew was that he probably thought her a silly, flighty city girl with all sorts of finery, but no real inner strength. She knew he was right- for all his outward... uniqueness, there was something deeply powerful within him, something that made her respond in a way she did not understand.

She was listening through her discomfort and heat, though, and caught something that was quite interesting. “Stories, they like stories?” She thought about that, quite curious. The subject was shifted quite suddenly, back to her, and she tried to deflect. “Ah... tell me, the stories the people enjoy, are they real-life stories that happened to the people telling them? Or are they just... any kind of story? Because if you enjoyed me just doing the poetry, perhaps they would enjoy a full story...” She smiled, briefly and uncertainly at him.

“As for how long I'll stay...” She hadn't yet considered that. She didn't want to lie and get called out for it later, but at the same time, she had to keep up the story. “Er... I was thinking about a month, if you'll put up with my presence that long. Although honestly, I'll stay as long as you and the other folks will have me.” She couldn't help but look away at that. Honestly, she didn't want to go home. Going back meant putting herself right back into danger. She could feel goosebumps running up her arms, despite all the heat she was feeling. “I... I truly hope we do become... tolerant of each other.” At this point, she was certain friendship would be too much to ask for.