13.May.13, 10:53 PM
"You don't have to," the Farmcrafter replied, brow knitting in momentary confusion. The joke went way over his head, and he didn't seem to realize it. "Most people don't think about where their food comes from--they just care that they have it to eat." Isscer was awkward at the best of times, but when he felt uncomfortable it seemed to get worse. Despite his inability to understand the joke, a pleased flush crept up his neck and spread across his face; it was rare that anyone recognized the dedication and work he put into his Craft, and to be to thanked was an exceedingly rare thing.
It was this rush of pride that tempered the disappointment of yet another person insisting that his dragon was waiting, that it was not shelled yet but it would eventually come. It made him want to tear his hair out, to stomp and yell, because couldn't they see? Of course they couldn't. Stupid sharding dragonriders did not seem to understand that there existed people who did not aspire to Impress. Isscer had only ever aspired to be a successful craftsman--nothing more.
"Perhaps." It was all he could manage without coming across as blatantly negative about the whole idea, and Isscer forced a wan smile that he hoped would fool the greenrider. "Ah, well. I should be going." He shot a look toward the sand that was almost longing before glancing back to T'rielle. "But it was nice to meet you--when I see you next, I will remember to say hello." The Farmcrafter didn't see much point in trying to continue a dying conversation, figuring that T'rielle would be more interested in looking after his dragon and knowing that the last thing he wanted to discuss was his future dragon--or lack thereof--any more.
It was this rush of pride that tempered the disappointment of yet another person insisting that his dragon was waiting, that it was not shelled yet but it would eventually come. It made him want to tear his hair out, to stomp and yell, because couldn't they see? Of course they couldn't. Stupid sharding dragonriders did not seem to understand that there existed people who did not aspire to Impress. Isscer had only ever aspired to be a successful craftsman--nothing more.
"Perhaps." It was all he could manage without coming across as blatantly negative about the whole idea, and Isscer forced a wan smile that he hoped would fool the greenrider. "Ah, well. I should be going." He shot a look toward the sand that was almost longing before glancing back to T'rielle. "But it was nice to meet you--when I see you next, I will remember to say hello." The Farmcrafter didn't see much point in trying to continue a dying conversation, figuring that T'rielle would be more interested in looking after his dragon and knowing that the last thing he wanted to discuss was his future dragon--or lack thereof--any more.