Kyle's never been a man of words. His world is images, watercolours, acrylics, this shade and that blending together. The translation from mind to paper is what rankles him, but he hasn't had that problem since getting the ring. Not when it can create what he needs precisely.

It's why he doesn't pay attention to the exact words. Tone matters more, and Sep's clearly dreaming, so Kyle watches that, hawklike, interjecting only with hmms and I see when he judges it appropriate. Guy can talk, and so can Jim, but never quite so openly.

He thinks, not tangentially, of Tennyson. To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield, and he leans forward, rapt at attention until Sep's done.