by AddictedToTheKnife » Fri Sep 02, 2011 2:34 am
"One would think," Nyulan'liir Illhar'dro soberly addressed her audience of tiktikki, who looked expectantly up at her seat on the bench. "That a sufficient number of you would have been plucked in the endeavor of begging scraps that it would deter you . You are far too plump for it to be an act of desperation." The tiktikki, of course, did not respond, unless they had developed a cunning language based on blinks. Ny sighed, and began to distribute her burden -- kitchen scraps and three-day-old bread from the Illhar'dro fortress. The tiktikki swarm over the prizes, eliciting a smile from the veiled woman. "You're a lovely example of the nature of greed, to be sure."
Nyulan'liir's odd behavior was, by and large, ignored by the regulars of the area around the pillar, who are either accustomed to her strangeness or apathetic. She is quite a sight -- flamboyant, dark, and clearly noble, feeding tiktikki in the park. She brushes the crumbs off her gloved hands, and opens her bag, pulling out a flat board for writing on, parchment, quill, and ink. As the tiktikki linger hopefully to see if she has any more food, she begins to sketch idly, intricate, delicate diagrams of springs and gears.