As Sera attempts to self-depreciate her work, Abraham's face remains impassive. Finally, when she finishes his reply is "So?" Then, realizing it might come off as a bit rude "I mean, so it needs work. That's good. Maybe when you bounce it off of an audience of one you'll get new ideas on how to improve it?" The knight pauses "In any case, I'd love to hear it, finished or not" He will not press it any further if she remains adamant, but come on, with a voice like that reciting a shopping list counts as art.
He nods, happy at the other Fairest understanding "Exactly. Senescence and infirmity are cruel companions, ones that catch up even with the Lost, much as we hate to admit it. So wouldn't it be better, as we hear them beside us, to hold a monumental feast for our friends and go to eternal sleep with a drop of poison, amid laughter and warmth? To choose our own moment, in a final act of defiance?" He realizes it may not sound very like a Spring, but the realization that all new life must end makes enjoying it that much more vital. It's clear that the Flowering has given the topic some thought.
Sera's claps meet with him bowing. That's what makes it all worthwile - an audience of one or a thousand, it's the awe that sweetens life.
The question of whether he misses something from L.A. makes him stop to think "I miss the Thousand Blades, my old motley. As you may know, the Lost population over there is much larger than here, so there was also a lot of work for us, most of which resulted in a host of stories coarse or dramatic, funny or grim... or all those things at once. Other than that, not really. I appreciate the smaller size of our community, it feels much more... familial" He pauses "Have you ever been part of a motley, Sera?"
"Reading and movies?" Always a good tell of what a person is interested in "Do you have a favorite kind?"