Rune frowned and for a few moments remained facing where Boli had just been. Turning as the man walked down the hallway, the faerie tried once more to piece him together. Soon after he followed like a puppy after it's master.<br/><br/>The faerie arrived at the courtyard not long after Boli. Pausing in the open doorway, he simply watched. Stepping quietly into the grass, Rune let his monarch wings fall open and flutter behind him with the breeze. Relaxing in the natural light, Rune continued to watch Boli as he approached the tree, and soon after exposed numerous tattoos across his back and chest.<br/><br/>Remaining perfectly still and silent, Rune kept his eyes on the professor. He had lost himself in his own thoughts, back to the times when a sense of peace similar to this was more common than it was today, and people weren't total bastards. Thankfully before the faerie could go further down that path, Boli's voice brought him back to the present. Focusing back on the man, Rune pondered the question.<br/><br/>"I teach language, yes." He answered, his gaze moving from Boli to the grass at his feet. It had been quite some time since he had been called 'interesting', many other names, yes, some none to kind either. Closing his eyes and sighing, Rune refocused on Boli's question.<br/><br/>"I've seen literature change. From a great work of art recited in grand theaters, commissioned for royalty, sung as great ballads, to the usual garbage deemed worthy in this day and age." Rune's voice had taken on an almost dreaming tone, quickly turning much harsher at the mention of modern writing. "I suppose I just want to share what was once great with those who don't appreciate it. Call me a lost cause." He laughed, more to himself than Boli, his eyes on a root that had parted the grass nearby. He was a dreamer, stuck in the olden times.<br/><br/>His fingers absently played with the cuff of his shirt, his wings visibly drooping slightly as their owner fixed his unfocused gaze on the root.