"One who'd prefer to flaunt them, maybe?" he offers, pausing in his rocking again to take a sip of wine, letting his lids droop in pleasure at its spiced warmth.
"Keen?" he asks with a wide-eyed, thoroughly overdone innocent look, but then spoils it by laughing, and allowing, "Well, I might miss them. But the truth is that it's a pleasure to talk to minds trained on similar lines who aren't competitors, ne?" He nods, "True, very true--but then, gathering together to warm and color a grey or bitter season is such an excellent excuse for a gathering, isn't it. And even when one comes together with no excuse needed at its conception, there may be one needed by the time it disperses. Too, fertile lands may inspire leisure to be greedy in, but not so regularly the snatching born of desperation."