There was something about that guy that had caught Lyney's attention. Observing him from afar, he perhaps lingered longer than he should have, watching him draw what Lyney thought were the flowers that sprouted here and there near where he was sitting.
But it wasn't the act of drawing that interested Lyney, actually. It was the silence. That was a specific kind of silence, one that didn't belong to the environment, but to someone. It was a silence that reminded him very much of Lynette, especially when she was younger, and that made him immediately want to approach.
And like someone who habitually did exactly what was on his mind, it wasn't long before the great magician of Fontaine stepped forward, a smile forming on his lips. "They are indeed spectacular, aren't they? A thing of a beauty," he said, his tone light. "I hope I didn't scare you," he added then, and now closer, he crouched down in front of where the other was sitting.
Lyney twirled his hand in the air, and, as if by magic, a flower appeared between his fingers. "Here, for you ~"