"Gaudiloquent." The wind knocks off a red oak leaf off the tree. Louis idly watches as the leaf slowly and gracefully float around before it joins the other ones on the ground. Louis inhales the crisp autumn air, feeling it fill his lungs. He still kind of feels like he's not really breathing. "It's a word that was used halfway into the sixteen hundreds, but they stopped in the early seventeen hundreds. It means, um," he pauses, trying his best to recall the meaning that he spent time trying to memorize. It's not that the meaning was hard. His memory just isn't as good as it used to be.