Clair listens to Chord's hasty retreat.  Why do ponies hurry?  Well, maybe she had things that wouldn't stay put for a few minutes, unlike him.  Slow pace is his homeground, and one he hasn't left for years.  And why should he?  Oh well.  It was nice meeting her again.

With her gone, though, and him out of the center of attention, he could get back to his book.  And that interesting-sounding spell.  He flips a couple of pages back, running his hoof over the textured paper until he reaches the formula again.  The points of origin were first his horn, and then...his hooves?  And...not all of them were needed.  How could he echolocate, even in objects, without listening for the answer?  Well...he'd try it out.  A few sentences further in, it recommends starting with something firm and solid.  Like...he slides his hooves off the book.  The thunks on the table give him a good thing to start out with.

Leaning in to Jazz, his horn glows softly as he presses one hoof against the table and puts his ear next to it as well.  His other hoof checks the formula one more time, and with a breath he starts the spell.

He flinches back as the table rattles loudly, drawing shushes for him as well.  Well, that didn't work out quite as he expected.  What had he done wrong?

Clair nods, passing the ball idly between his hind hooves.  It had been a while.  He's never been one to get out much, as he's had an aversion to being out in public for most of his life, but concerts and other performances where the attention of everypony is focused on somewhere that isn't him are more bearable.  The Trans-Equestrian Orchestra was rather good in his opinion, too.  Enough that he could still remember one of the songs from that performance...his hoof taps against his seat in an approximation of the rhythm of it.  It wasn't a perfect recollection, of course, and out of context with the rest of the song doesn't really mean much, but it's something.

Clair lets the conversation flow around him, being as unobtrusive as he can.  It's nothing new to him, of course.  Maybe he could get back to his book.  He couldn't wait to try out that in-object echolocation.  It sounded fascinating, if more of a curiosity than anything else.  After all, he had his hooves for anything close enough to touch, and why would he need anything more?  It's the range outside his reach that he's most interested in.  Although...

He's brought out of his thoughts by Mom's question towards Chord.  She's concerned.  Is something the matter?  He's not one to be able to help anypony very often, so it makes him uneasy when he feels it might be happening.  He finds his breathing coming a little more quickly, his hooves clenching and unclenching where they're folded on the table.  Well, he couldn't filter what he's getting, but he can try to cope with it.

His left hind hoof reaches out under the table and pulls his bag towards him by the strap.  His horn glows a dim white as he trails his telekinesis down his leg for reference of where he was reaching, into the bag and around one of his stress balls.  Out it comes and rolls up his leg, across his side and out along his left foreleg, ending up between his hooves.  His horn glow dissipates and he squeezes the ball, his breathing slowing as he works his feelings into it.

Clair cocks his head curiously, not really being helped by the explanation.  Or the clunk of what he's guessing is a visual aid being placed on the table.  Diagram of the planet...so shaped like the planet.  That's...which shape again?  Probably one of those three-dimensional ones that he had a hard time remembering the names of.  Well, he knows most of them, he thinks, but some of them have more than one name, right?  Like a circular circle is a sphere, or a ball.  Sure, he'd learned his geography before, but it's been a while, and he doesn't really use it all that much...

He's about to reach forward to feel the globe that's supposedly in front of him when his mom comes back to the table, engaging the stranger in conversation instead.  He's just fine with that.  His forehooves return to a neatly folded position in front of him on the table and he leans against Jazz, his smile brightening.

The book starts with an explanation of the heightened senses of one that's missing a single one.  That Clair is already aware of and understands.  What he isn't sure he can accept is that the other senses can actually be more revealing than sight itself.  Well, perhaps he'd find out about it later in the book.  After explaining those two concepts, the next thing in the book is a formula for an echolocation spell, similar to the one he already knew, though a bit more rudimentary.  At least to his understanding.  The flow of magic was only divided two ways rather than three, and it was set to a lower frequency.  He isn't so impressed with it until he reaches the next page.

Channeled through the hooves?  Does that...he reads back through the formula again.  He'd misread one part.  It can be divided up to five ways, not two...interesting.  He flips the page again and reads on.  Echolocation...within objects?  Not through the air?  Well...it's something he'd thought of before, but he wasn't about to start unguided experimentation with magic after what happened last time.  While his permanent reflective empathy was, in his opinion at least, a positive thing, who knows how badly it could have ended up?  But now that he has a guide to it...

Clair blinks, still facing forward.  Is somepony talking to him?  The voice is close, rather close, and seems to be directed at him.  "...sculpture and I need a second opinion on the base."  A sliding sound on the table next to his book makes it sound like something is being placed down.  Or moved.  Maybe it was already there?
Oh gosh.  Somepony is talking to him.  About sculptures?  What does he know about that?  Of course, the question here is about the base.  Maybe it's about the balance?  He knows about that.  Where's Mom?  She could talk for him.  He fires off a quick echolocation spell in an attempt to find her, but wherever she is isn't within a direct line from his horn.  She must still be looking through the shelves.  Uh...he wouldn't be comfortable just getting up and looking for her...what if he got lost?

His head dips slightly, still facing forward.  Maybe the stallion next to him knows Morse.  A SCULPTURE OF WHAT STOP WHERE IS THE WEIGHT CENTERED STOP

Clair smiles all the way through the library as Jazz guides him, leaning against her.  His steps are never precisely loud, but he's extra careful here not to disturb the quiet atmosphere that he enjoys so much, whether being read to by one of his family, reading with one of their sight, or independently reading one of the braille volumes carried here.  Always accompanied by somepony he loves, of course.

When they reach the table, he sits at it, folding his hooves in front of him and facing forward, head slightly downward.

Clair's smile widens a smidge as Chord's hoof meets his, and he gives a little jiggle of her hoof to shake it.  He'd never really understood the custom of shaking hooves, but it's fun enough.  What he doesn't expect is for Chord to hug him, but it kind of disappoints him that she doesn't do it for longer.  With his slow reaction, she's breaking it off just as he's returning it, which just ends up looking kind of weird.  Still, a hug started has to be finished, or it would be wasted, and they're a precious resource in this house.  So he gives a short hug back to Chord after she disengages, a light blush accompanying his light grin as he sits back.

Clair's ears swivel at the sound of his name while his jaw keeps working slowly at the muffin's remains.  Just a little bit left, and then he'd decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his day.  But first it sounds like Chordonus is leaving.  Technically no, he wouldn't like to say goodbye since, as more often than not, it probably meant he'd never meet her again.  But still.  It's nicer to be able to do that than send her on her way without a figurative word.

So he nods and takes what little is left of his breakfast and pops it in his mouth, chewing slowly as he turns around on his stool and walks to Thyme, stepping behind her and laying his chin over her shoulder while he chews and they head for the door to see their guest off, his eyes closed in contentment.