Ormulus's apartment, Tuesday evening

[godinakilt]

Camulus was not singing to himself as he worked, a stack of books beside him, post-its haphazardly stuck about. He most certainly wasn't singing about his beautiful little man. Because he wasn't singing at all. He was working.

". . . an teid thu leam, mo fheir bheag alainn . . ."

Comments

[heterodine]

munch munch munch went the mimoths. There went the books.

[godinakilt]

"Gah!" Camulus growled, slamming what was left of the books around as he tried to catch the mimoths. "That *wham* was very *whamwham* well-written *wham* poetry! *whamwhamwham*"

[ascended_being]

Orlin came in with his nose stuck in a book, and promptly walked into a wall he was sure shouldn't have been tehre.

[godinakilt]

". . . an teid - Orlin?" Camulus looked up, concerned. "Are you alright?"

[ascended_being]

Orlin rubbed his forhead and nose ruefully,"Yeah, just clumsy. What were you singing? It sounded nice."

[godinakilt]

"Nothing," he grumbled. "Nonsense syllables to a milling tune." Oh look, books. Study study study . . .