[ Reynir blinks, listening to all that encouragement and waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Everett doesn't make a joke, doesn't say something backhanded that turns all the praise sour and makes him feel silly for having believed it in the first place. He just... means it?
Which honestly leaves Reynir stunned for a good few moments - a rather telling pause in which he just can't process how to respond to it. He'd grown up surrounded by people who loved him, but there is a difference between love and support, between love and respect. Very few people have had faith in him - much less complete faith - to accomplish anything at all.
He realizes far too late that the silence is stretching and he ought to have said something, and his cheeks flush a faint pink. He rubs at the back of his neck, stammers out: ]
Ah! I - um, that's - I hope so! Thank you.
[ Fairly embarrassed, Reynir steers the conversation away from himself - he is also interested in what Everett said about his background with rats. ]
Your family line? So, um. Your family are... farmers? But with rats?
[ Is there a word for people who raise rats, specifically? Was that a thing they did in the Old World? Reynir has no way of knowing. He's not exactly a scholar. But he doesn't really know what other word to use.
(It might be nice, just for once, to meet someone else in this place who had been a farmer before coming here... everyone is so sophisticated, so highly educated, and while Reynir loves meeting people from different backgrounds, it can get just a bit daunting...) ]
Oh, I can see that! People underestimate how important it is, just having a little bit of care for animals. They might be a bit different from humans but that doesn't mean they're - less.
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Which honestly leaves Reynir stunned for a good few moments - a rather telling pause in which he just can't process how to respond to it. He'd grown up surrounded by people who loved him, but there is a difference between love and support, between love and respect. Very few people have had faith in him - much less complete faith - to accomplish anything at all.
He realizes far too late that the silence is stretching and he ought to have said something, and his cheeks flush a faint pink. He rubs at the back of his neck, stammers out: ]
Ah! I - um, that's - I hope so! Thank you.
[ Fairly embarrassed, Reynir steers the conversation away from himself - he is also interested in what Everett said about his background with rats. ]
Your family line? So, um. Your family are... farmers? But with rats?
[ Is there a word for people who raise rats, specifically? Was that a thing they did in the Old World? Reynir has no way of knowing. He's not exactly a scholar. But he doesn't really know what other word to use.
(It might be nice, just for once, to meet someone else in this place who had been a farmer before coming here... everyone is so sophisticated, so highly educated, and while Reynir loves meeting people from different backgrounds, it can get just a bit daunting...) ]
Oh, I can see that! People underestimate how important it is, just having a little bit of care for animals. They might be a bit different from humans but that doesn't mean they're - less.