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<blockquote data-quote="Schwarzwald" data-source="post: 71523" data-attributes="member: 544">I steps forward, smaller than everyone, but his posture is what he was raised with back straight, chin level, elven trained. His voice is quieter than usual.&quot;Professor Lorrimor never treated me like I was strange.&quot;I pauses, frowning slightly.... as if I&#039;m&nbsp; working through something I doesn&#039;t fully understand. My face scrunchies up as if a sharp headache washed over me. And I spoke...&quot;Everyone else does. Even when they&#039;re kind, I can feel it... the way they look at me. Like I&#039;m a puzzle they&#039;re trying to solve. But the Professor just... talked to me. About history. About translation. About whether the Elven death poets were actually mournful or just dramatic.&quot;A small, genuine smile rises and fades from my face.&quot;He said they were dramatic. I disagreed. We argued for three hours. He bought me tea halfway through.&quot;I look at the coffin, and for a moment my composure flickers, a wet dark sadness bubbles up for a moment as if I lost the only friend I had ever made.&quot;He once called me &#039;the most interesting halfling&#039; he&#039;d ever met. I didn&#039;t know what to do with that being a halfling wasn&#039;t something anyone had ever just... named before. Like it was normal. Like it didn&#039;t matter. Like I was just a person who happened to be one.&quot;My voice drops.&quot;I don&#039;t know why that mattered so much. I just know that when he said it, the noise in my head went quiet. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe...&quot;I touches my collar, then my bell, but doesn&#039;t ring it...&quot;I&#039;ll miss the quiet.&quot;</blockquote>

[QUOTE="Schwarzwald, post: 71523, member: 544"] I steps forward, smaller than everyone, but his posture is what he was raised with back straight, chin level, elven trained. His voice is quieter than usual. "Professor Lorrimor never treated me like I was strange." I pauses, frowning slightly.... as if I'm working through something I doesn't fully understand. My face scrunchies up as if a sharp headache washed over me. And I spoke... "Everyone else does. Even when they're kind, I can feel it... the way they look at me. Like I'm a puzzle they're trying to solve. But the Professor just... talked to me. About history. About translation. About whether the Elven death poets were actually mournful or just dramatic." A small, genuine smile rises and fades from my face. "He said they were dramatic. I disagreed. We argued for three hours. He bought me tea halfway through." I look at the coffin, and for a moment my composure flickers, a wet dark sadness bubbles up for a moment as if I lost the only friend I had ever made. "He once called me 'the most interesting halfling' he'd ever met. I didn't know what to do with that being a halfling wasn't something anyone had ever just... named before. Like it was normal. Like it didn't matter. Like I was just a person who happened to be one." My voice drops. "I don't know why that mattered so much. I just know that when he said it, the noise in my head went quiet. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe..." I touches my collar, then my bell, but doesn't ring it... "I'll miss the quiet." [/QUOTE]

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