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[jehan_prouvaire]

Oh, well I -- fed the birds breadcrumbs, and it was so nice to see them there, despite the cold, and I hope it was worth it for them, as enjoyable for them as it was for me -- and I set the last piece of bread by my side and before I could put it into little bits for the birds, a crow came down and took it away. I think I'll go back to the park

Comments

[jehan_prouvaire]

*laughs nervously* Wilted -- no, no, that's not right -- the flowers should be a little happier -- er. I mean -- I'll always be here. Just -- where you are. And... *still nervous, gives him a pack of cigarettes and another paper frog to add to the paper frog collection, and a rather stained piece of paper* ...It's -- a failed poem, but -- but... *pauses, and gives him an armful of nameless flowers from a nameless meadow by a namelessbrook* ...Haha. Merry Christmas. I love you.

[jehan_prouvaire]

Oh, yes, very pretty, and -- if they can't be saved with water, I know that if you press them into a book, it guarantees romance -- or... was that how it went -- and --

*looks a little apprehensive* It was rather a failure. All it says is "I love you," so it -- doesn't have any real rhymes or variation, assonances, metaphors, imagery, nothing -- *shuts up and puts his arms around Courfeyrac, which can make up for Courfeyrac's inability to hug, and nods*

[valetudinarius]

Just please, do not light the breadcrumbs on fire with the candles, by accident or not. You've no idea how rotten the smell of burning crumbs are, and you would likely still have the crumbs in your hands, and you would burn your hand. Please do be careful...