[ How fascinating. Foreigner is like a bell in a soundless vacuum, a scream that hits cushioned walls and falls to the ground, neutered but beautiful. Even in cat form, there's something about him that feels incongruous with the real world, and that's something Mozart has always found favorable about his fellow Servant. That he's neither here nor there, both tethered and untethered.

Ain always sounds sad and beautiful and impossible to comprehend. Every day is a learning process. ]

Maria'd be glad to hear that. It was her, wasn't it? [ Flippant, but proud. He tries to scratch behind one of Ain's ears, if Ain will let him. ] I was on my way to get some pen and paper for my compositions— and you?