she doesn't know what the leaves are, and tells him that, and delight loses interest. "oh," he says, and moves on to phase two, totally smoothly. "i'm delight singing-sunlight -- you're malice, right? burke and mato both mentioned you." he pauses, realising how odd that sounds, and tries again: "i mean - because i'm - i'm collecting everyone's stories, right now. the founding stories of tindómë."
he glances at the plant again as if checking it is still, in fact, the same boring leaf it'd been when he walked up. so far all of his pack mates have been quite accomodating on his self-directed quest but there is still the awkward hesitation in demanding the life stories of total strangers - and so he bites his tongue for now, watching instead to see how she responds before he decides to press on or not.
she cottons on quickly; he flashes a vague approximation of a smile (he'll get it right one of these days). "something like that," the androgyne says, tilting his head just so. "whatever you're willing to share - but, yeah, how you ended up here, in the moment," he explains and takes a seat, expression open - ready to mentally record anything she deigns to share with him. really he doesn't know much about her besides her relationship with burke (and that she came from the caldera with him) - she's important because of her ties to the silvery prince and his grandfather, but since she is not a major player in morwinyon's life as far as he can tell, he does not feel the same pressing need for information he felt with burke (and with bri).
unlike the elder or even morwinyon, malice's story is woven with complexity - offering a more tantilizing sort of detail. his eyes never leave her face, fascinated by the expressiveness of her features, the way each new bit of information transforms, heightening the drama.
it's akin to the sort of storyteller he wants to be - not merely capturing the minutae of their existence, but weaving the words to bring them life a second time, and beyond. in the woman's mouth arthendal was not merely a location on a map, but a home, even if the children mentioned were of little consequence to delight beyond their tenuous relationship to the silvery prince.
he knows already the story of the caldera from burke - malice echoes burke's side, and he makes another irritated hum, still pressed by the redhawk's refusal to care for the elder. for a moment he allows the silence to settle - a beat - and then nods, expression warm. "thank you," he says. "that is helpful - i like your flourishes," the androgyne adds, though whether or not that will make sense to anyone but him remains to be seen. "burke mentioned arthendal is - was - not too far from here... where about was it located?" tindömé's numbers are too thinned for a scouting trip, delight feels - but he still wants an image, and once their base is flourishing he does intend to take the older man and go on a historical sight-seeing trip.
he offers a tentative smile, a fleeting but pleased thing: "sure - burke mentioned maybe wanting to go as well." a scouting trip seems out of the question with their numbers as fragile as they are, but delight holds onto some hope that they will find some new joiners and by the time it's warm, it'll be safe to travel. "thanks, malice," he adds again, dipping his head quickly. with burke, malice, and mato's story, that just leaves brienne - who he's been avoiding because of the whole mato thing but that's another story (ha).
with nothing else to ask the woman off the top of his head, delight quietly excuses himself and makes his way back into the forest, leaving her to her interesting leaves once more.