"—see, there's that again—you can tell what I'm feeling, or something, can't you. More than you should be able to." This is sort of consternating but not in a way that is Cir's fault. "I wish you could just talk to me. If I knew how to make that happen without involving her, I would!" Because Cir is cute and should be protected an intriguing mystery who is very good to hold in one's lap and pet and Siurek saw him first and has dibs. Also it makes Siurek uncomfortable to be reminded that he holds no actual power over Nirue and can only get what he wants from her by convincing her to give it to him.

...Cir helpfully picks up the nearest object, which is the hem of his borrowed outfit. "What's this called? I can just try to learn your languauge..."

"—what, really? All right, fine. I hope you're better at languages than I am."

He can name the parts of the outfit, and any other vocabulary Cir thinks to ask for, and after about two minutes of this he has had Too Much sitting still interacting with abstractions and has to get up and pace around the room— "it's not you, it's just I hate sitting still—" but if Cir doesn't mind being taught languages under these conditions they can totally keep going while Siurek paces back and forth and occasionally gets the impulse to dance but then doesn't because it would be undignified.

Cir is not all THAT good at languages but he is very motivated because whatever Siurek is scared-for-him about must be really bad! He does not take offense to Siurek getting up. He does tilt his head at the suppressed dancing impulse. Gets up and spins around himself.

It takes him a second to notice what just happened—to notice that he was thinking about dancing, and then Cir got up and twirled—and then he stops in his tracks and looks at him with puzzled suspicion.

They still don't have enough common language for him to ask any of the questions that are on his mind, not and have a hope of understanding the answers, but—it's clear that Cir is getting more than just a sense of what he's feeling. He wants to know more, and it's so frustrating that he can't just ask, and—

—dancing—

He takes Cir's hand and says, "Dance with me," and starts leading him. Nothing super complex to start off with, the point isn't to make him fall over, the point is to—see how far he can follow—see how well he tracks what Siurek is thinking and feeling and intending, how well he understands the cues for dances he can't possibly ever have learned.

(He does not at all notice how good for him it is to be doing this. He does not at all notice how being able to focus on his body and senses and immerse himself in kinesthetic experience makes him calmer and steadier and happier, how the flow of movement makes the whole world seem smoother and brighter and clearer.)

Cir has no real dancing experience but he makes the world's best follow insofar as he can complete the steps! This was such a good idea.

He keeps going much longer than he means to, because it's just so much fun.

Eventually, though, one must stop moving and flop. The opulent armchair is comfortably cozy, with Siurek in it and Cir in his lap.

"My little mystery," he says, petting Cir's hair. "You're—not exactly reading my mind—but something in that vein, aren't you?" The dancing has left them both a bit sticky. He contemplates hauling Cir into the bath, but finds the prospect of standing up again moderately unappealing at the moment.

Snuggle. Nuzzle. Agreeable nod, though he doesn't know exactly what Siurek said he seems to be thinking about Cir in an increasingly accurate way.