Wardrobe

Villager: Phyrus

"Blindness is subjective, I think one can be apathetic and not be blind, but that was not me. I keep my eyes open now, literally and figuratively." He observed the Eyeris leaves waving gleefully at the touch, it was said that they never blinked, but maybe that was because they weren't prone to reconsidering what they saw.

Was he happy? He thought he could answer that without overcomplicating the question. "Right now, I am happy." He replied with a smile, "This moment I am happy."

Musette nodded, watching the potted Eyeris with intent as they danced for Phyrus, "I did," He said alittle slowly. "I, I made a terrible first impression with everyone I met. It didn't matter to me either, nothing did, not as much as it should've,"

He glanced his eyes to Phyrus faintly smiling, and then down again, "It does matter, though. I want to do better."

"He, yelled at me twice actually, but the second time he apologized for. He was worried about my brother." He gave Phyrus an apologetic look, not really because he felt he had to or because he was obligated, but undeniably Shawyen had had a reason to yell at him, and he must have had a legitimate reason to feel sorry for that even now.

"When we first met Shawyen was how he introduced himself to me." Musette lead them toward a row of Eyeris plants. Maybe they were more mature, swaying gently and blinking demurely at their keeper's guest; in any case they weren't so forward as to try and touch his hair. "It doesn't make a difference to him if I address him with a title or at all, he speaks to me if he has to. I did not make a good first impression that I cannot blame him."

If Musette's house was messy his greenhouse certainly wasn't. Pleasantly cluttered might have been more accurate for describing the soft press of plant-life that greeted them. There were large, rectangular planters arranged neatly in aisles for accessibility. The plants here wriggled and writhed, they reached outwards with leafy branches and curling vines, and it was semingly to welcome their arrival, as though they'd come to life when the door opened. Clearly, many of these were not native to Dragonsmaw, some groped from within aquariums along the walls, others even blossomed freely from the ceiling or darted between personal planters fixed overhead.

The ground in the greenhouse was soft and earthy. Musette linked his arm with Phyrus' again when they were both inside, carefully manuvering him away from the more curious of sprouts that were inching towards his hair. "They're used to my brother, but they've never encountered an unfamiliar face." He quirked another smile, "He'll be glad to see you, that you have a letter from Shawyen is just icing on the cake."

His lips twitched and he eased them into an apprehensive smile. Musette was relieved in a manner of form, be that for the touch or something else entirely. "In that case...." He breathed, "I would like it if you came to visit. I've, I know I've never invited you over, I made a habit out of coming to you."

He looked at him with a slight flinching contained to his eyes. "I want you to visit. Whenever," He squeezed Phyrus' arm with his linked arm, "From now on I'm going to make a habit out of asking." The latch was wood and the door creaked towards them when Musette lifted it. He released Phyrus' arm to hold the door wide for enough for him to step through, "Once we're finished I can take you inside to see him."

He thought about this, mouth working but not in an arrogant way. Somehow being in his own environment helped in means of security, and he was able to assist Phyrus to the green house door without needing to save face. He has no reason to hide in his own home, but it didn't mean that he never hid there. "It's always been my comfort," Musette confessed. "I'm not hiding because I don't want anyone there, but I've never shown it to anyone before."

Things had never gotten that far. He paused at the latch of the door and glanced down his arm at Phyrus. "If you came to visit me I'd need to put more effort into cleaning the house, but it wouldn't be a bother to me."

"It's.... I don't really broadcast it," He said self-consciously to him. "I've never taken anyone on a tour at least, and my brother has a black thumb when it comes to gardening. The greenhouse is kind of a new thing; expanding seemed right since I have more time to devote to a project, but yeah it's just me."

He directed Phyrus onto a stone pathway that curved around the front face of the home, seemingly it went all the way around. The pathway fled beneath a wrought-iron gate that Musette escorted them through and it did not end there. The upper most panels of the green house could be viewed from the side of the small manor and, too, the hedges sureounding the garden.

"The garden or the greenhouse first?" Musette asked, leading him with nervous deliberation. He flexed his arm in the hook Phyrus' own, but the intention wasn't to be boastful just to give him something more solid to hold onto. He'd taken his fair share of tumbles over a root or misplaced vine.

"My mother kept a garden; we always had one and I learned from watching her." He shrugged a little, "They're mostly aesthetic I guess. Some of them I use for perfumes or potions, but I grow fruits and vegetables, herbs too."

"A comb would tangle less. To be completely honest with you they are alright for gardening, but mostly good for itches that I couldn't otherwise reach."