Bellamy rolled his eyes at the question. He presumed that Mr. Darrow knew what it was he was waiting on, so he had to know that Bellamy had no way of answering it. He wasn't a weather diviner (and in his brief interactions with the few he'd met in his travels, he didn't put much stock in their craft, anyway; the weather was always so changeable). How should he know how long it would take for the clouds to meander along on their way?
"If you're in a hurry I'll offer a sacrifice to Freyr to speed things along," he said dryly, obviously without any intention to follow through on that remark. He didn't really imagine that Darrow would be in a hurry, though. He said he took this route when he walked home from work, so he had nowhere pressing to be — and whatever plans he might have made for his evening had to be secondary to this. The pursuit of beauty outranked any of the menial tasks this fellow might get up to on his own while sitting at home, Bellamy had decided even without knowing anything at all of the man's life. Not that knowing more would have swayed his opinion — to Bellamy nothing was more important than art.
"If you're in a hurry I'll offer a sacrifice to Freyr to speed things along," he said dryly, obviously without any intention to follow through on that remark. He didn't really imagine that Darrow would be in a hurry, though. He said he took this route when he walked home from work, so he had nowhere pressing to be — and whatever plans he might have made for his evening had to be secondary to this. The pursuit of beauty outranked any of the menial tasks this fellow might get up to on his own while sitting at home, Bellamy had decided even without knowing anything at all of the man's life. Not that knowing more would have swayed his opinion — to Bellamy nothing was more important than art.
