It's with a snort that Lloyd slowly cuts the next few strands of hair, focus mostly concentrated on trying to keep the cut even to the previous one and succeeding, for the most part. The ends may be a little choppy, but it's not like he's done this before, exactly, and a dagger and some twine are hardly real replacements for proper scissors and training. Oh well.
"All the grace and poise of an alley cat, maybe," Lloyd snarks, though the grin he wears betrays his playfulness. "You would've been friends with Oliver."
And then he pauses for a second, realizing that through his letters, he never really found much of a chance to tell Zelos about his only friend while at the Academy. Oliver was a rough little runt of a cat, one that loved to hang around his empty little dormroom, all torn ears and matted fur. "He was a cat that you could say I adopted when I was still at the Academy. It took me weeks to get him to get close to me, even though I could tell he was curious with how he hung around my dorm window all the time. I bribed him to come near with food scraps," Lloyd explains, huffing a little laugh in remembrance, voice softened with fondness. "Once he got fed, though, it was over. I left my window open and he would just decide to make himself comfortable on my pillow. There were so many mornings where I'd wake up for rollcall and find myself with a mouth full of cat fur. And he always hung out with me when I was in my room in my free time, just keeping me company."
He wonders where Oliver is now. If the next knight-in-training placed in Lloyd's former dorm will treat Oliver with kindness and accept him into the room. After all, Lloyd owes a lot to the feisty cat - without, at least, his friendship, Lloyd doubts he would've kept his sanity.
"You know what, though," Lloyd pulls himself back to reality, finishing up with yet another section of hair, repeating the process once again, and edging the playfulness back into his voice. "I don't think he would have responded as well to you, actually. I heard divas don't do well with other divas."
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"All the grace and poise of an alley cat, maybe," Lloyd snarks, though the grin he wears betrays his playfulness. "You would've been friends with Oliver."
And then he pauses for a second, realizing that through his letters, he never really found much of a chance to tell Zelos about his only friend while at the Academy. Oliver was a rough little runt of a cat, one that loved to hang around his empty little dormroom, all torn ears and matted fur. "He was a cat that you could say I adopted when I was still at the Academy. It took me weeks to get him to get close to me, even though I could tell he was curious with how he hung around my dorm window all the time. I bribed him to come near with food scraps," Lloyd explains, huffing a little laugh in remembrance, voice softened with fondness. "Once he got fed, though, it was over. I left my window open and he would just decide to make himself comfortable on my pillow. There were so many mornings where I'd wake up for rollcall and find myself with a mouth full of cat fur. And he always hung out with me when I was in my room in my free time, just keeping me company."
He wonders where Oliver is now. If the next knight-in-training placed in Lloyd's former dorm will treat Oliver with kindness and accept him into the room. After all, Lloyd owes a lot to the feisty cat - without, at least, his friendship, Lloyd doubts he would've kept his sanity.
"You know what, though," Lloyd pulls himself back to reality, finishing up with yet another section of hair, repeating the process once again, and edging the playfulness back into his voice. "I don't think he would have responded as well to you, actually. I heard divas don't do well with other divas."