It is night, about 70F(21C) degrees, and there are clear skies. The mist is heaviest At Birch and Atlantic/span>/span There is a waxing crescent moon.

Buck makes some room of the extra chairs by moving over to sit next to Sophie, “Looks like Sarah is coming with someone, so I’ll give them some chairs together.”

Matias checks his watch and muses to Thomas, “If the general public is anything like students, we will have them arriving in exactly 10 minutes fater.”

Matias says “After. “

“I think the general public is like students, except they don’t get marked down for being late,” Thomas tells Matias with some amusement. “It will give folks a moment to read the poem — it’s not long, but I do like the imagery,” he says. He looks up at Tamar. “Tamar,” he says. “It’s nice to see you. Better than our last encounter, I think.”

Thomas greets Circe. “Glad to see you, Circe — grab a copy!”

Buck gives a tip of his hat to Circe, “Evening, Miss Lette. Good to see you around town.”

Circe blinks a few times before looking over at Buck. “Did we meet? I don’t remember, I don’t know.” She simply shrugs a bit and rolls on over towards the smattering of chairs, taking a copy of the book and flopping into one.

“Buck Ransom. We haven’t met, but I keep files on everyone and everything in town. I’m an investigator, so it’s sort of my job to keep an eye on things. Good to meet you.” Buck says with a tip of his hat to Circe.

Tamar makes her way in, reaching for a copy of the poems then pausing for a moment when Thomas speaks her name. Like she is a child in trouble. When she hears the rest of what he has to say, her motion continues and she takes one, fidgeting with it as she nods her head. “Professor,” she replies quietly. “Yes, much better circumstances.” A pause as she lingers near the poems. “I can still come?”

“Of course you can!” Thomas tells Tamar with a smile. He greets Lorelei. “Hello,” he says. “I’m Thomas Hale.” The same is said to Sarah and Teagan, introducing himself since he doesn’t know either’s name.

Thomas says, “Grab a copy if you haven’t.”

“I’m, uh, surprised I’m even worth the attention.” Circe snorts slightly, crossing her legs and slumping over in the chair, thumbing through the book for a moment.

“Of course you can!” Thomas tells Tamar with a smile. He greets Lorelei. “Hello,” he says. “I’m Thomas Hale.” The same is said to Sarah and Teagan, introducing himself since he doesn’t know either’s name. (re for mousey)

With that response, Tamar gives another nod and moves over to the chairs to find herself a seat quickly.

Buck gives a tip of his hat to Sarah and Teagan, “Evening, Miss Sontess, Miss Lawson. Good to see you out.”

Nemi smiles softly as she walks in, takes a copy, and sits down with a soft smile in a free chair.

Matias stands up from his chair and clears his throat, “I believe this student needs a little painkiller from the hospital. Who came with her?”

Matias points over to Teagan

Sarah pants just a bit as she slips in, helping Teagan as she smiles, “I’m Sarah.” she counter-introduces before aiming for the copies. “Oh um, me!” she offers to Matias, though she makes no remark on the necessity or not of painkillers, scratching at the back of her head.

Lorelei attempts to sneak in quietly, smiling with wide-eyed innocence at being clocked so readily in the relatively small group. She sheepishly does a little scurry to the front, snagging a book like a thief in the night before whisking herself into a chair and doing her best dutiful student pose, back straight, book in lap. She looks a little out of her element, somewhere between a fish out of water and a duck in a submarine.

“So!” Thomas says. “Everyone thank Mr. Kitt for staying open late for book club,” he says, indicating the proprietor to the north. “He’s been kind of enough to let us have our space here.” He pauses. “Tennyson –” He nods to Matias, trusting him to help Teagan. “Tennyson wrote many things, but I find the Kraken the most interesting of them at all.” He pauses. “I have some thoughts about the poem, but — who has an initial impression?” he asks. “Before I tell you what about it I find most interesting, I want to know what people’s first instincts are.”

“Great, Sarah I am Professor Matias would you please take this young woman back to the hospital to pick up her perscription. I think her knee is hurting her terribly.” Matias says in a very sure of him self manner.

Sophie leans forward a little, her eyes on the page. “I think it is beautiful,” she says softly. “The language makes the Kraken feel both terrifying and magnificent. Those lines about the faint sunlights fleeing and the huge sponges of millennial growth… gorgeous. You can almost see the colors and shapes in that dark water, like a hidden world that never needed people to exist. It’s not the normal Kraken imagery. Not by far.”

Dovie claims a seat, late to the book conversation.

Lorelei almost frantically gestures for Dovie to sit next to her.

Constance chimes in with her opinion on the poem – “It makes me wonder if Tennyson was, ah, particularly enamored with a cthonic eidolon,” she shrugs. “I’ve never been one for flowery words, though, but it’s interesting that it ends with its death?”

Tamar scans over the poem, eventually pulling out a journal from her bag and laying that open on her lap. For those who peek she seems to have copied out the poem before hand, in terrible childish handwriting, followed by a list of many, many words some with definitions beside them. “I like the way it sounds when you read it,” she offers, looking back up again, uncertain at Thomas and the others. “But there are a lot of very difficult words in this one.”

“I like that,” Thomas tells Sophie. “That’s not where my mind goes, but is there anyone who like Miss Callum is struck by the beauty of the thing?” he wonders. “Dovie, grab a copy,” he tells Dovie. “And yes, Connie — that’s my reaction. But not just that it ends with its death,” he says. “But I want to come back to that in a second after we see if anyone else, like Miss Callum, sees beauty in the beast.”

Having glanced at one of the copies on the table and read it, Buck raises his hand with a pen that he’s been writing notes in a small notebook and mentions, “Historically, Tennyson was around in the 1800s, so there wasn’t much known about the deeper parts of the ocean until submarines and modern sonar technology, so I can imagine Lord Tennyson sitting on a boat or on the shore and just finding himself lost in the deepest of waves, perhaps seeing coral and other upper oceanic species and adding that imagery to this larger, mythological Kraken. Whaling ships were quite common of the era.”

Dovie relocates to sit next to Lorelei, flashing a grin as she listens to the different theories. She nods at Thomas, offering a smile as she grabs her own copy.

“It is a balance between cosmic horror and the sheer power of a force of nature. Perhaps someone who was not sure whether the Kraken is a cosmic horror or a force of nature itself. It seems to swing between both concepts in the lines.” Matias says after a few people have spoken, adding his two cents with a brazilian accented english. “I do find it especially curious, like Constance mentions that a timeless entity dies when it rises.”

Matias belatedly add, “The fire line is clearly a reference to Revelations and the world being purged by fire and the Leviathan or in this case Kraken rising.”

Dovie lets out a little hum, offering. “Perhaps a euphemism? Le petit mort as the French call it?” she chuckles for a moment. “Or like a deep sea anglerfish? Don’t they only come to the surface at the end of their lives? They otherwise live in the deep darks.”

Circe says “I mean, what difference -is- there between a force of nature and a cosmic horror? Isn’t nature some kinda cosmic horror all its own?“

Nemisomeone softly in agreement with the other. “I must agree with the others- Especially With Professor Matias here. While it is confusing at first the poem does not lie about the fact that such a beast will not go unnoticed let alone not dealt with. I love how at the beginning few lines it really expresses how long it has already slept there with the fact growths are on the beast.”

Lorelei might have only just now read the poem, frantically. But some dark impulse in her soul can’t help but chime in. “I sort of wonder if Lovecraft was influenced by this. It’s older right?” Her melodic German accent carries easily. “Would the concept of cosmic horror even have existed when this was originally written?”

Thomas says, “What I find fascinating about its death is that it is not just that -it- dies.” A beat. “We all die.” He reads: “Until the latter fire shall heat the deep…” He pauses. “The latter fire is the end of days,” he says. “It is the greatest of conflagrations — as Alejandro says, it is the reckoning at the end. It dies, and with it, us.” He nods to Circe. “I don’t know,” he tells her. “Are they the same? Or are alien things the enemy of nature, horrific because they are a rejection of our familiar, fundamental law?”

Nemi nods softly in agreement with the other. “I must agree with the others- Especially With Professor Matias here. While it is confusing at first the poem does not lie about the fact that such a beast will not go unnoticed let alone not dealt with. I love how at the beginning few lines it really expresses how long it has already slept there with the fact growths are on the beast.(fix)”

“It’s older,” Thomas tells Lorelei. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Constance comments, “Could be about the latter fires of industry forcing the last unknowns to the surface to die observed, since it mentions by men and angels seen.”

Sophie glances toward Tamar with an encouraging little smile before speaking up. “I actually think that is part of the beauty of it,” she says. “The Kraken is described with so much detail and wonder that it does not feel like just horror to me. Those sponges of millennial growth, the enormous arms of the polypi moving through the green… it is painted like a strange, living garden beneath the sea. Even the way light barely touches it makes the image shimmer in my head. It is both terrible and beautiful at once, and I think that is what makes it so powerful.”

Nemi nods softly in agreement with Constance as she hums softly. And then in agreement with Sophie. “I agree, it really does a lot for making you feel the mindstate it wants you to.”

“Forces of Nature are that which shapes our world. Cosmic horrors from the beyond, the space between stars, the void. They are Other and Alien and the antithesis of creation. A force of nature may consume but it renews in the wake of its destruction. Cosmic horrors simply consume… In my experience.” Matias amends at the end after a somewhat impassioned defense of nature over horrors and their differentiation.

Lorelei pouts slightly as if giving up an air of mystery and anonymity cost her something. “Lorelei.” she says, too proud not to enunciate clearly.

“A living garden, yes, that is quite a way of putting that,” Dovie smiles at Lorelei before she nods in agreement at Matias.

Sophie gives Dovie a little wave.

“These sea worms could very well be something akin to a representation of whales or other massive entities in the ocean that are known to give the reader a sense of scale, or be calling upon an even deeper mythos of the greek variety like Homer and the Odyssey.” Buck notes.

Sneaking in fashionably late and probably later than fashionably late, Eloa moves behind of Matias’s chair, putting her hand on his shoulder as she enters, trying not to be too disruptive.

“Yeah, I dunno.” Circe shakes her head at Matias. “It seems to me like, destroying things sort of -is- the role of a force of nature, not just creation. Maybe we shouldn’t make differentiations between these kinda things, and instead just see them all as just… Great forces, I guess?”

Accepting the poem, Eloa gives Thomas an apologetic smile for being late although apparently she’s not the most fashionably late given Teagan and Sarah just walked in. Giving Teagan a small smile as if Eloa is happy to see her on her feet, Eloa turns her hazel eyes back to the poem.

“It’s an interesting thought,” Thomas tells Circe. “I agree, too, that kraken — tentacled things — they often mythologize as cosmic horrors, don’t they? But to Miss Callum’s point…” He gestures to Sophie. “It’s not really described as an alien, is it? It’s described natural-ish.” He pauses. “I say ‘ish’, because it eats worms, right? ‘Battening upon huge sea worms.'” A beat. “And it’s described as ancient, dreamless sleep.”

Thomas asks, “Show of hands — who thinks tentacled creatures are emblematic of the natural and strange?” A beat. “Actually — go to the right side of the room if you think the creature in the poem is natural, and to the left side — the sinister side — if it is an an unnatural thing.”

Lorelei chews on her lower lip until it’s nearly bruised with thought. “This must have more to do with mythology, and I think we are projecting a bit of our modern mythology which includes things that this is based off of, onto it. I’m not even certain that the kraken was directly linked to to the octopus or squid until this time period in particular, and possibly even later than this. Most lore of the creatuer before this is of Scandinavian origin, even though modern depictions place it in the realm of Greek gods and Titans and such..”

“I don’t think it’s feeding upon them, as it says it’s in his sleep. It is perhaps drifting in it’s massive form. The latter fire could be that from sailors attempting to fend it off. There’s very much an undertone of that this is an unknowable ancient entity that still sleeps and may even be at the slow, drifting end of it’s life to the surface.” Buck notes.

Without hesitation, Dovie rises and moves to the right side.

Nemi raises a hand in agreement- and then moves to the fight side of the poem room.

Matias moves to the right side of the room and picks up a copy of the poem for himself again.

Nemi raises a hand in agreement- and then moves to the right side of the poem room(fix).

Looking a bit worse for the wear, and moving with some stiffness, Seraphina finds a seat and takes it without a lot of fanfare.

Sophie rises with a little laugh, glancing around the group before moving toward the right side. “Natural,” she says firmly. “The poem makes the Kraken feel like it belongs where it is, part of the sea itself. The sponges, the polypi, the light struggling to reach him… all of it reads more like an ecosystem than a nightmare. It is strange, yes, but strange in a way nature always is when you look closely enough.”

Constance heads to the sinister side of the room.

“Battening is feeding, in the argot of Tennyson’s time,” Thomas tells Buck. “Miss Hawke, we’re reading the Kraken, and deciding right now if we think the creature is natural — on the right side of the room — or not, on the left.”

Circe steps on over to the right, rather than the left.

Thomas gives Seraphina a copy.

Buck moves to the middle, “I offer another theory. This was a natural thing, perhaps a large octopus or squid, but much like we’ve seen in other transformative ways, pacts with demons, otherworldly entities such as Fae and Gods can perhaps morph and change a thing. I believe it was once natural and because something more sinister in time at the behest of a deeper power.”

Eloa follows Matias to the right although only understands why everyone was moving after Thomas’s explaination! Clutching the copy of the poem, Eloa reads over it and decides to stay on the right.

“The line about the uninvaded sleep would imply uninterrupted. Are you suggesting it was corrupted or changed while slumbering? I think it implies it is as it was and always has been until it finally rises and dies.” Matias offers to Buck

Lorelei does not look like wants to get up, whether it’s from uncertainty or she is already placed favorably on the right side of the room. She scrutinizes the poem further, dragging the tip of a long pink fingernail over the text as she weighs specific words.

“If so, why would it have ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep?” Thomas wonders of Buck. “It’s interesting that all of you think it is part of this world, than apart from it — because I am with Alejandro, even if he stands dexter, not sinister,” he says. “I do not think a tentacled beast that rises at the end of days is part of our cycle. The poem, to me, seems clear — it is an abysmal sea, fall below even the ‘upper deep’, and its death is heralded by angels. Whatever deep he lies in, it is not mortal.”

Not realizing she’s meant to take a side, Seraphina seems as content as she can be for where she’s sat herself, and it doesn’t seem that she will be getting up, moving herself to rest more on one hip than the other with a bit of a hiss, and a rub at her shoulder. “Sorry I’m late.” She opens her copy to read through it as the others are already in discussion.

“The cities-between have this dream-like state in the before and mostly in the after. In our forays into Camelot and Biringan, there was the ability for some of our arcane will and ideals to be made more real in the colletive concious of these places. Likewise dreamworlds are something that could have been dallied with in this ancient time. There’s so much sleeping imagery here that leads me to believe this could very well be a dreamworld encounter of Lord Tennyson.” Buck notes.

“Eloa’s english isn’t very good but can’t ancient dreamless uninvaded sleep just be like… a metaphor for being in part of the ocean where man no explore like uh… that megadon movie?” Eloa asks Thomas although it is also for the room.

Lorelei drums her long nails against the paper in a bit of pitter patter, “Well it seems obvious that it is borrowing that motif from other aspects of scandanvaian folklore, Jormungandr in particular..”

Tamar totally did not just disappear out of nowhere. She’s just quiet.

Dovie raises an eyebrow, intrigued as she asks Lorelei. “What is the Jormungandr?”

Circe says “Serpent that goes around the world, fought Thor, buncha other stuff.“

Thomas scans the poem again. “Here’s the other thing I wonder,” he says. “It is surrounded by unencumbered and enormous polypi,” he says. “Just as we sometimes call octopuses — what a funny word — kraken, we call polyps Medusae.” He pauses. “But of course they are all strange creatures, aren’t they? Are the polyps the Kraken’s children?” He looks at Buck and Eloa. “It could be a dreamworld: or it could be a rejection of them,” but then someone is offering a theory. “Please,” he encourages her. “Tell us more.”

Thomas scans the poem again. “Here’s the other thing I wonder,” he says. “It is surrounded by unencumbered and enormous polypi,” he says. “Just as we sometimes call octopuses — what a funny word — kraken, we call polyps Medusae.” He pauses. “But of course they are all strange creatures, aren’t they? Are the polyps the Kraken’s children?” He looks at Buck and Eloa. “It could be a dreamworld: or it could be a rejection of them,” but then Lorelei is offering a theory. “Please,” he encourages her. “Tell us more.”

“Ahhh,” Dovie nods at Circe.

Nemi raises a hand. “What if it’s…. a failsafe? How old it is implies it’s been around for ever- it has no reason to wake it’s self sustaining and nothing implies it follows normal laws of mortality- It’s a failsafe- Triggered when those that lie above it trigger their own hubris- and thus it rises and bring the end of daes until it dies ….’

Sophie adds at the same time to Tamar as if inviting her in. “The Jormungandr is the world serpent from Norse mythology,” She gives someone a little smile.

Sophie adds at the same time to Tamar as if inviting her in. “The Jormungandr is the world serpent from Norse mythology,” She gives Circe a little smile.

Lorelei says “A giant serpent that rests at the bottom of the sea and rises up at the end of time to eat everyone including itself. Though it’s not so much sleeping as biting down on it’s own tail.“

Thomas asks Nemi, “So you think that in the poem, the Kraken is the cause of the end? Interesting. That’s scary.” A smile. “Definitely more on Team Sinister.”

Nemi continues. “It’s something one and made by nature…. a natural failsafe…”

Kai wanders into the place like he owns it and heads over to the collection of chairs, he gives a wave to the group as a whole and plops down to the chair nearest to the exit to not interrupt anymore than he already has.

Nemi shakes her head. “Not an unnatural thing- Something that has and has always been- Old as the sea itself- Grown with nature as nothing has grown so powerful as to disturb it and them bam… human… other life- end of days.”

“Why does he mention angels?” Tamar eventually scrapes together enough courage to ask. “Does that have to do with Revelations?”

Buck raises up his glass of whiskey to take a sip as he listens.

As if she were pushing some glasses back on her nose, Lorelei didacts, “I think if you imagine writing a poem like writing a movie, you just sort of scoop up modern mythology and mix it up with the types of older myths you’re familiar with. When you don’t have comic books or many novels to base it on, all you have left is various folklore.”

“To carry the fallen to Heaven in redemption?” Seraphina asks.

“Oh,” Thomas tells Nemi. “That’s an interesting thought: the Kraken is nature’s wrath, destroying the works of men.” He pauses. “But it’s men and angels, isn’t it?” he asks. He nods to Seraphina. “Is the Kraken taking the fallen to Heaven? Or is this nature — or something darker — set against the very face of God?”

“I will state that such poems often require a deep contextual knowledge of the time they were written. Often writers used very subtle or not so subtle phrasing to evoke common knowledge at the time of the writing. A more modern example would be the Christmas Classic, Baby its Cold Outside… There was a line about the drink and what is in it. It was written during prohibition and that line was commonly used to imply this drink is alcoholic. Whereas in a modern lens it seems rather sinister.” Matias says to Thomas as much as the rest of the room concluding, “It would be interesting but outside the scope of this meeting to see what lines in here are very relevant to the terminology of the time it was written that might give us the authors intended meanings.”

Kai pops his monocle in and sits up a little straighter, he crosses one leg over the other and crosses his arms at the wrist over his knee, looking down his nose at the others in attendance, nodding haughtily after Matias speaks, as if in full agreement with the professor.

waves at Kai as she holds the poem, near Matias and she does tilt her head nodding about the poem before wondering over to find a seat as well instead of standing over on the right hand side. Eloa gives Seraphina a smile as she settles though although frowns as she studies the woman, “Are you okay Miss hawke? You don’t look like you had bath and relaxed since lanterns..”

someone waves at Kai as she holds the poem, near Matias and she does tilt her head nodding about the poem before wondering over to find a seat as well instead of standing over on the right hand side. Eloa gives Seraphina a smile as she settles though although frowns as she studies the woman, “Are you okay Miss hawke? You don’t look like you had bath and relaxed since lanterns..”

Eloa waves at Kai as she holds the poem, near Matias and she does tilt her head nodding about the poem before wondering over to find a seat as well instead of standing over on the right hand side. Eloa gives Seraphina a smile as she settles though although frowns as she studies the woman, “Are you okay Miss hawke? You don’t look like you had bath and relaxed since lanterns..”

Lorelei seems to have gotten whatever it was out of her system and goes back to vibing with the room at large, humming pleasantly to herself in a way that might make a thing or two in her vicinity vibrate uncomfortably.

Dovie vibrates.

Matias reaches up to his spectacles with a squint and removes them moments before the lenses crack! He just looks disappointed.

Buck scribbles some more notes in his small notebook as he listens, “That is true, Professor.” he says motioning to Matias, “The context of the time does make some of the context not as clear in our modern age as language has changed.”

Dovie stops texting and turns her attention back to the conversation, though she remains vibrating, her hand unable to keep still.

Thomas glances at Dovie. “Dovie?” he asks. “Everything okay?” he says. To the larger group, “I am still interested in ancient and dreamless sleep. To me, that suggests almost being out of time, especially since it stirs only at the end of time.” He pauses. “He’s lain for ages — though I go back to battening himself on worms, too. What does it mean to be eating worms?” he wonders.

Seraphina smiles wearily at Eloa, “I am fine. I just had a little bit of a run in on the way home.” There is a subtle little glance at Constance for whatever reason. “I did try to bathe and sleep, but I failed at the latter.” Rough around the edges this evening, it is a different look for her. She looks like she should be sleeping whatever it is off, and soon she is lost in some thought. It is a while before she returns her gaze to the poem in her hand.

Dovie stares off into space for a moment, still quite literally ‘vibing’, thanks to Lorelei. “Wh-what?” Even her voice shakes a little. “I’m fine.” She looks down at the text, as if studying it carefully.

Tamar lifts a hand to rub at the side of her neck as she frowns at the poem. “Battening has the same meaning as fattening?” she asks unsure of herself.

Matias tucks his broken glasses into his blazer breast pocket and looks briefly at Seraphina but instead responds to Thomas, “Whales eat but opening their mouths and moving. It is reasonable to believe that this massive creature simply ate in its sleep. I think mythology has several slumbering but consuming creatures no?”

“It’s to strengthen,” Thomas tells Tamar. “It’s certainly a poetic turn of phrase, and old.”

Lorelei gives Seraphina a once over, then flashes her a strained smile that conveys an entire conversation’s worth of feminine commiseration.

“Sure,” Thomas tells Matias. “But why worms? Are they lemures, lost souls in the abysmal depth?” he wonders.

Constance says “Could be wyrms with a y.“

Tamar nods her head at what Thomas says, circling the word battening and writing next to it painfully slowly ‘strengthen’.

A look of sympathy is given towards Seraphina and Eloa reaches out to gently pat her arm before turning to listen, something distracts her though, those emerald flecked hazels looking a bit glazed and then she shakes her head a little.

“This is post The Divine Comedy, so there’s plenty of imagery that can be pulled from in the way of christo-mythological sources.” Buck mentions.

“That’s a really different meaning,” Thomas tells Constance. “Then it’s killing dragons, literally.”

“I think this is an allegory for latent male homosexuality,” Kai declares after re-reading the poem a second time, he leans back and lifts his chin at Thomas and Matias, as if daring either to challenge his take on it.

Sophie stands and dips a nod to Thomas, “Thank you for a lovely time. Sorry..” A little wince follows as she heads out.

“Do you often feel a rising when you have a burning sensation Ashford?” Matias asks with faux concern.

Constance snorts.

Tamar ducks her head and giggles faintly.

Lorelei lifting a pinktipped finger, interjects thoughtfully. “I do sort of wonder, historically, if when one said sea worms they might mean more like, dragons, or monsters not like Worms we think of.”

“Might need a doctor for that.” Seraphina says.

“How immature and uncouth, Professor,” Kai responds to Matias airily, he looks over his shoulder and turns back to the group.

“Also what if there are giant worms down there and this writer was a merefolk that braved the great pressures? Eloa understand even they can’t go that deep into the ocean because the pressures simply is too great.” Eloa asks curiously, fingering her chestnut curls as she sits with her skirts spread about her.

Circe blinks a few times, seeming to come to from being zoned out, only to shake her head and say, “Ugh. Can’t stay awake for this.” She stands up, and begins to walk towards the door, giving a wave farewell to everyone still involved with the meeting. “Take it easy.”

“We’re reaching the end of the hour, regardless,” Thomas says. “Any last thoughts?” he asks.

Lorelei frowns slightly. “I’ve never seen giant worms down there.” She says, pensively.

“We cannot be afraid to explore the serious questions. Like the latent male homosexuality or the clap.” Matias states unabashed by Kai’s commentary. “That being said, I do agree that worms and the sea could mean dragons. I am unsure at this time when whaling was prevalent what the understanding of the edge of the world and sea monsters were. I do know the concept of maggots and worms and water is well known, I think it most likely refers to worms as small insignificant things, because of how big it is perhaps likening the world to worms when it rises.”

Constance shakes her head. “Thanks for the club,” she murmurs.

“We don’t have any proof that Lord Tennyson was of among the supernatural, but this is perhaps something to look into. It would give a far more nuanced perspective of the writing.” Buck notes.

Nemi nods softly in agreement eith Buck and Matias.

“Well,” Thomas says. “Feel free to stay and discuss!” he says. “I hope you all had a good time,” he shares with the crowd. “And I’m happy to talk more one on one, sometime.”

Kai stands up and drops his monocle out of his face, he says, “Lovely gathering professor!” with gusto to Thomas and turns to waltz out of the room.

Dovie shakes her head at Thomas. “No other thoughts, but this was very interesting! What’s the next book on deck? Or is it to be determined?”

Eloa waves at Thomas, “Thank you for hosting. Sorry Eloa was late.” She calls out.

Matias looks down at his watch and tells Eloa, “I am going to check on Miss Lawson since she apparently re-aggrivated her injury. Would you like to come Eloa?”

Tamar takes her copy of the poem and folds it in half to slip into her notebook which she then tucks into her bag. “It was very interesting. Thank you, Professor.”

Buck slips his small notebook back in his pocket as he gives a nod and tips his hat, “Have a pleasant evening, everyone.”

“I haven’t decided,” Thomas tells Dovie. “I might do Culpepper’s Herbal, but it’s a little dense. Or maybe something more modern. Not tonight, though,” he says. “I’m headed home. It’s nice seeing you all.” He glances at Seraphina. “Need a ride, Miss Hawke?”

Dovie waves to those gathered.

“Yes,” Seraphina says, slowly gathering herself up to a stand.

Thomas says “In the mists?“

Lorelei stands up and does a little spin, swanning out in her best Dovie impression.

Thomas says “Connie, can you help? I have to be asleep.“

Thomas says “I think Connie is asleep. Call out a stop if you can.“

Buck frowns.