she's listening quietly, a rarity for the average yordle, and once the violin's bow stops moving does she realize it's the time for applause, and all that's heard is the sound of tiny gauntlets trying to clap for irelia as fast as she can
The excited ringing of the yordle’s appreciation brings mellow warmth to the contours of Irelia’s upturned lips - she produces a gracious bow, head lowered in deference to the smaller visitor. Her performances outside of the concert halls do not typically attract curious ears, and she prefers to conduct her practice in the hallowed privacy of empty forest domains, with only the elm and the willow to listen, but she won’t frown upon a respectful audience.
Irelia sets the violin down for a second to appraise the yordle, who had announced their quest to seek out a ‘hero’ among the warriors of Ionia. While whimsical in desire, resembling a tale cut from the pages of storybooks, it comes from an honest heart, an ambition she cannot help but encourage.
“You have my gratitude, my noble friend - though I do not know if you would find the proper fit for your weapon in our country, you are still free to bask in the sounds of our music.”
