Michael
*Lucrum's face dropped in relief as he realizes Ombu was where he decided to get lost at. He had only been to Ombu once or— well twice in his lifetime. Actually, he was unsure why he hadn't visited more. As he vaguely remembers a meeting being held here in adolescence years. It was a beautiful place to sightsee, probably the reason how he ended up here. He snaps back to reality as he realizes, he was in his head again, Lucrum chuckles shaking his head. Where was his manners?*

"Om—bu—. . . Ombu!—Ahah, It makes sense now! A lot of sense actually—! That means your a Wood Elf right?—Or wait a Fae! Your a Fae!—"
*He winces at the his assumption, knowing it was quite rude . . . Especially from a Macen*

"Ah, Forgive me. . .I didn't mean to intrude on your walk ma'am. Just wanted a sense of direction. . ."
*He shakes his head, his tone apologetic. He didn't introduce himself. . . Yet*

"Oh yeah, My manners. . . I am Lucrum T. Khamiel! It's a pleasure to meet you—..."
*He bows his head to her, awaiting her name as an answer. It would be good to mention now. Lucrum was indeed a Macen, his skin was Carmel. He wore a bloused long sleeve shirt and a red tailored jacket. However her wore it on his shoulders as if it was a cape. His glasses were round with tinted red to match his jacket. All-In-All, he dressed all to rather snazzy for someone to be from Ombu.*

*He was a foreigner to her; but she wasn't to him. If she was familiar with High or Dark Elves, she could piece together that he had some of their mannerisms.*
James
Lyra wasn't that much offended with having her sub-species being mistaken. She was more worried over making the guy hate her...

She did her best to not it show through her face. If one glanced at her eyes long enough, though, they'd figure out how worried she was over the situation. Her journey barely began and she was already proving herself as the worst conversionalist in the land...

"Name's Lyra." She was quick and to the point, but not in a rude or professional way. More like a socially awkward one. "Lyra Fiala."
Michael
*Lucrum was an observant fellow, he picked up on Lyra's discomfort. But wasn't able to pinpoint what was the source. He started to think he had weirded her out with appearing out of nowhere his expression softened.*

"What brings you out here Lyra?"
James
"I, am actually... Planning to leave." Lyra explained, while twirling a thick string of her own hair.

"I wanna go out and explore. Find out what I missed while living here... And, m-maybe, also find inspiration for my artsy stuff." She explained, hanging her head low in a timid motion.
Michael
*Lucrum would nod at her, he understood what she meant going off to start her own life. . . For a moment he sees himself as a similar to Lyra. As he himself sought for the same thing. He makes his way over to Lyra to hear her better*

"An Artisan? — Sounds like quite to career, I'd actually like to see what you'd come up with. . ."
*He rolls his eyes, at how ironic this may sound as he retort*

"I am actually an Artisan myself, but life has preoccupied my time. I haven't been able to express my creativity on the canvas is awhile. . . Do you have any art that I can see?"
James
Lyra felt pretty flustered with the words. It sounded a bit too good to be true, but she didn't think twice as she opened her bag and began to seek for her drawings and writings.

"H-Here they are! Sorry if they... Sound a bit weird." She said with a half-smile as she began to demonstrate them.

Most of them were from creatures one would find in a book. Others were a bit about her fellow Fae elves. And others were about nature in general. Her handwriting wasn't the most finesse of them all, but it was cursive and still readable; the texts themselves were poems and short stories, majorly fantastically fictional in nature.
Michael
*Lucrum is silent through the entirety of the showcases, he cupped his chin with his left hand. He could tell she was just getting started on her journey but nonetheless she had ample of room for improvement. But her versatility between: Beast, Humanoid, and Landscapes was promising— truly! The young man take his spectacles off to wipe the lenses. He doesn't hold eye contact as he speaks he sounds stern*

"It isn't good— no— no— Not the right word to describe one creativeness."
*He looks up with a smirk, clearly sarcastic about the statement prior. He was genuine.*

"It's by far one of most intriguing things I've seen yet—! These Fae proportions— The unique bestiary— and detailed biomes? . . You ma'am have a keen eye for detail, it doesn't take an artist to see however. You could become a very renowned artisan drawing bestiary or portraits for others."
*He buffers for a moment at the realization, he raises his eyebrows at the woman gently placing both hands on her shoulders. His face with bewildered with a single question*

**"Have you tried... Painting?— Oil Painting?..."**
James
For a few short seconds, Lyra seemed a bit worried and... Heartbroken. As if she didn't get that Lucrum made a sarcastic comment.

As soon as he gave his compliments to her, though, the worry was swept away. She gave a hopeful little smile, still a bit timid, but definitively warm.

"...Hm, no sir. I'm sorry." Lyra replied about the oil painting question. "It sounds interesting to try from what I heard about it, though."
Michael
*He nods in a slight disappointment, though he could understand that Fae weren't all artistic and probably didn't value paints. He backs off and stares into the forest around them as he gives her an offer she couldn't put down*

"I see. . . I see. . . —Maybe—We can arrange something, That is if. . . You want to take your career to something more professional?— Better yet, we can meet another time to paint the land and I'll bring along supplies. You can test the waters, experience something new and express your creativity. . . From there you can decide if you want tag along or go your separate way. If not that's fine by me."

*He turns back to Lyra, giving her a side glance. The wind blowing against his coat-cape. Lucrum was giving her a opportunity to become something, A partnership of sorts. But that choice was ultimately up to her.*
James
Lyra honestly really though about it.

For a moment, she went into her usual thinking way. Her Mom probably wouldn't like that... Talking to high level strangers and all those things... But Mom gave her her blessing to find independence. Which meant... Taking choices for herself. Right?

"Sure. I wanna... Tag along." She replied, trying to crack a less timid grin.