Faziir had been stuffing his pipe with unidentifiable materials. The statement of Ÿrÿn made his head flick 90 degrees towards her. "I do so love libraries, marvelous collections of stories and illustrations." He fluttered on his table, starring intently at his pipe. "The Court of Indefinite Color will be ecstatic for a prospect of establishing a grand center of the chambers of scripts. We have many things to share, and many things to learn."
His eyes sparkled and glowed more than before, as he performed a pirouette. "That reminds me of a thing the Union Pythian is in need of desperately. A consortium of arts. A collective agency of music, painting, writing, architecture, baking, cooking, shaping things from stone and glass, theater, orchestra, wildfire, culture, weather, language, emotions, sensations, and colors indefinitely." The Primrose Envoy dove from the table, the momentum landing on the floor releasing winds and glitter. He winked, the glow in his eyes zapping the pipe, igniting it. It released a thin rainbow smoke, and one could faintly hear distant music playing.
Faziir walked over to the Admiral again. "I would very much like to contribute." He took a puff from his pipe and inspected the the book. "It has a style showing distinct character." His eyes turned from their classical Amber color to a colorful kaleidoscopic image.
