"Glad to help." Since he wasn't yet full (though could actually do without eating), he took the scone and finished it off for her before drinking more coffee as well, grinning the entire time.
Duke laughed at her recited poem and clapped a few times. "Well, that's never happened to me, but there's a reason I leave the lyric writing up to the others. At some point I just started writing hilarious poems for the fun of it instead of actually trying," he made a scared little face like poetry was something to fear. For him, it kind of was, and his poems were something he didn't really want to share with others. Bomba had read a few and that was enough for him.
Rolling his head back on the couch, he let out a groan but then he jumped up and held out his hand for her to take. Once she was up and had her fingers laced in his, he lead the way down the hall to one of the extra bedrooms. His actual bedroom that he slept in was upstairs but he liked to keep this one on the ground floor and he paused before opening the door and turning the light on.
Floor to ceiling windows lit the room up pretty well and offered a nice view of the yard. In the room sat several wooden stands with finished or in-progress clay sculptures, some of bodies, some of random designs, and one even of an animal. To the sides were his tools: extra clay, one of those things that spins to make pottery (what he'd started out with but no longer did), and actual tools to help shape them.
"I like to use my hands for something and so when I have nothing else to do or really feel like relaxing, I just come here," he shrugged and leaned back on the wall.