"Erpedoben," Klara repeated, letting the book fall shut with his thumb between the pages. "I can't say the name is familiar to me. Notable for magic... what sort of magic, do you know? Any idea of what the people are like where it concerns strangers?"
It was always a fiddle-y thing to approach new people without any idea of how their society functioned, what was expected of outsiders. The beauty of the strange, however, was that it was often undocumented. In that lay certain opportunities for the scholarly mind.
Considering the question Jaydeen asked, Klara looked off the way Gasha had gone for a moment, looking through the air into his own thoughts. Jaydeen had attempted to warn him of danger before he had realised it had been just outside the inn's doors, and been kind to him after the change despite Klara's initial suspicions. Still, no matter how trustworthy someone might be on the surface - there were only those who were family, and those who were not.
"Hm, you know, generally I feel myself." Shifting the book into one hand against his knee, he used the other to pluck at his clothing a bit with a sigh. "I do miss my gowns, but despite an anatomical inconvenience or two there really seems little difference. I can see further, my stride is longer, I can bear more weight, et cetera, et cetera. The real oddity is the quiet."
His eyes darkened and he furrowed his brow. "My blood... It doesn't sing. Such an odd absence. Before there was always a tune playing in the next room and it was just a matter of turning a corner to hear it fully. A vibration of sorts. Now, all is still. I cannot feel the Imp, nor sense my family, nor anything beyond the veil. All in silence, hidden from me."
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