Faeries Ball.

[Grayell]

Grayell also took up his goblet and drank of it, and as with Kiko, the taste was more than a simple roll over the tongue. It was a giggle, a whisper, a silken dream that warmed the gut and lifted the spirit, anything but normal.

Their food likewise looked incredible and as the rest of the guests were busy eating, Grayell helped himself. The food too lifted the spirit and painted happiness across the heart, it was majickal and inexplicable.

Grayell felt no malice, his smile reassured Kiko of this fact. Once done, he nodded and rose from his seat.

Well then, I suppose I owe you that performance your highness. I would ask that the children gather, for I have a tale for them.

[Kiko]

Kiko took small bites of the food, and though it was autumn the taste reminded her of lazy summer days when the sun shone high in the sky, when the world turned in slow circles, and when the breeze warmed your skin. Fruit, meat, cheese, even the bits of dark brown bread she tasted spoke of summer.

It soothed the rest of her suspicions away. And, maybe, she was just able to relax a little bit more. She had certainly ran into a wide variety of things since meeting the Wolf.

When he mentioned telling a story though, she wrestled the lethargic feelings the food and drink had produced and straightened up in her chair.

She wanted to hear this, too.

[Grayell]

Grayell waited until all of the children no matter how strange and curious in nature they may be; to sit down in front of him in a large semi circle. Their backs to the queen, he looked at them with a smile, a cheeky smile. His arms were folded and he waited for the to sit silent, ready for him to begin.

He offered Kiko a smile and the queen a nod and began.

Let me tell you a tale children, a tale of the child of the country, a tale of the wolf.

In my land, far. far from here and not so far at all lived my people. My people in fact lived with your people, for many, many years we lived as one. My kind walked with your kind as I walk with you now and we all knew of your Queen as she knew of us and our Kings. Those were good times, grand times but alas, not all things can last and the only truth is all things change always, as they change even now.

But those are tales for another time, tales a plenty indeed... and we need to talk of but one. One I am fond of... the tale of the son of the country, the sons of the wolf. They were the last of a line of such terrible warriors as you cannot imagine, terrible and cruel warriors that used the spirit of the wolf as their own. They were feared children, they drove mean to tears with tales of their terror, the reality so much worse.

But we will talk of two children, boys not so different than yourselves and how it came to be that they stopped the terror of these cruel men, these Laignach Faelad. You see, these men, this tribe, these wolf men as they were, were not of the woods and not of the wilds, they were not born of the earth as I am... no they were terrible. Dark, malicious men, a blood thirsty tribe with even the means to scare you dear Queen Mab!

The children started to look a little scared now, that was not something they could consider to be possible.

Grayell smiled and paced before them, his hand rubbing the fang that hung about his neck.

Two boys were born of unknown heritage, both left naked as babes are born to be and left in the hills to fend for themselves. Their parents long gone, they were left for the wolves, surely they would die before such terrible beasts. But these two boys were found by a mated pair, a wise pair; the known as Faolan and Sèitheach, he and she the most grand amongst all wolves. These were children of the countryside, borne to the woods and the plains, the elements and the spirits.

The two boys, Conchar and Failbhe were raised then by their wolf parents in the wilds as people themselves are meant to be and grew to be strong, fine young men. Human men. But being humans raised by wolves, they never truly felt as they belonged, they were never truly part of their family.

Whispers flow like wind my children, down the dales and over the hills and as sure as all others knew as they did, these boys heard the terrible stories of the Laignach Faelad, the savage and cruel wolf tribe that struck the fear into the hearts of all others.

He had their full attention and his face turned stern, almost scary, deliberately looking to scare the children a little and it worked. He still played with the fang at his neck, smiling just a little.

You see children, these terrible wolf men, these monsters - they would sell their services in battle for they knew they could not be beaten. They killed all who stood before them and stormed through villages and town, killing all that opposed them. The foolish kings of men would hire them in order to further their own blood thirsty ideals but the price was dear....

You see the Laignach Faelad did not demand money as payment.

No. They demanded new born babes... and when they were paid.... THEY ATE THEM!

The children were in fact quite scared now but Grayell only smiled, still holding the fang that hung form his neck.

Now our two boys knew of these terrible tales and whilst they were not wolves themselves, they were indeed children of the country side, heirs to the mother. They knew too well how to prowl, how to sneak, how to hunt and how to spy... and so they did.

Failbhe and Conchar stole into the wolf tribe's camp one night and discovered a terrible secret, here in the hall of their chieftan and his son, they discovered a pair of furs. The wolf tribe laid asleep and our boys, now men were swift and silent... they stole up these furs and fled into the night. Once out of sight, out of ear shot of the wolf tribe camp, they threw on the furs... and immediately turned into wolves!

Grayell now shifted in an instant and looked at the children with his wolves eyes, sat before them. They were shocked, but his story had them entranced. And so, he continued the tale now, as the wolf.

It was an incredible thing children! They were now as wolves were, they could speak as men and speak as wolves, they knew of all things their parents knew and now and unlike it had been prior, they felt they were truly the sons of the countryside, born to the earth and the air. But they knew something too... that their transformation would last but seven days. After seven days they would return to being human for one full day - after which they could wear the fur once more and be wolves again.

The boys ran a time, enjoyed being as wolves were and are... but after a time began to argue as siblings do. One wanted to run and one wanted to hunt and so, they made a pact and decided to be on their separate ways.

They decide that should any more than 7 of the wolf tribe come for either of them, that they would help one another. They were wolves, surely they could handle 6 men... but 7 seemed a dangerous game. Swearing to protect each other, they said their goodbyes and went on their way.

The first day, they both faced and killed one of the tribe each. They knew then they were being hunted, they had stolen the furs. The same on the second day, now only two men came for them... then three on the third and so on and so forth each day until the seventh day.

On that seventh day, seven men came for them but only found Conchar. He fought brave and he fought hard... and wouldn't you know it - he won! There were but a handful of the wolf tribe left alive now, surely there could on longer be a threat!

The children were excited now and Grayell smiled as the wolf.. but his voice grew scary, cold.

But children... Failbhe was mad at this. He approached his brother in his anger, he took insult to his brother not asking for his help as they agreed! Failbhe attacked Conchar them and bit him upon the neck...

... and Conchar's life left him. Failbhe has killed his brother on this, the seventh day. He could not awaken him, he could not urge him to move.... no his brother was long dead and gone from this world and onto the next.

Failbhe mourned his brother, he hated himself so for acting so rashly. He lifted his brother's body and carried him home, far from the lands of the wolf tribe and back now to where the sons of the countryside ran free... to bury his brother in the earth that birthed them to return him to the mother and the spirits.

But as Failbhe carried his brother, he came upon two fightings ferrets. They were mad and angry, eager to kill one another... and one of the ferrets bit the other on the neck. That ferret too died at that moment, but the other ferret ran into a bush and returned with an herb, a mystical leaf. He placed it on his ferret brother's neck and up he sprang, alive as ever! Bot ferrets ran off happily playing once more.

Failbhe knew what he had to do now... but he searched high and low, all day through looking for the strange herb and found nothing. Finally, still looking but with no hope left, he returned to the lands of his people, of his pack and laid Conchar to lay atop a rock. He threw his head back and howled in his pain and sorrow....

Grayell threw his head back and howled then, it sad and hollow as the wolf lost and alone.

... as only wolves now know how to do. Remember this when you hear the lonely wolf children, this is the source of their sorrow for no other creature loves so fiercely.

But something happened children. Something magical. A raven flew down to the brothers and what did it carry? The herb. Failbhe quickly placed it on Conchar's neck and then and there, Conchar was saved from the clutches of death!

The brothers rejoiced, removed their furs and then later burned them, vowing to never again wish to be wolves. They already were, their parents had seen it so.

Conchar and Failbhe went on to protect the gate to the moonlands as two great wolves children and they watch us all when we pass.

Grayell lifted now, still as the wolf. The fang about his neck swung as he did so and he smiled as he slunk backwards toward the trees now.

But some say children, that the terrible wolf clan is still out there. That the Laignach Faelad know no death and the haunt your world and mine, hungry for the flesh of newborns! They could be anywhere, they could be anyone. And they could be the wolf.

And so it is children... learn from the wolf for he can show you all the secrets of the woods but never venture out alone. The Laignach Faelad lurk in the wilds, hungry for you to be alone, hungry for your flesh.... WITH BIG MASSIVE TEETH!

The massive creature that was the wood spirit Tanto lunged from the tree line then, snarling and snapping savagely. He stood a full man's length above Grayell and as the children screamed and scurried, Grayell resumed his human form, his hand resting on his brother's muzzle. He pressed his head to his brother, all such spirits could travel here.

It has been some time brother.... but once they regain their wits, you must let them pet you know.

Grayell chuckled as the massive spirit wolf scowled at him and he stepped forward, to bow to the queen as this was the end of his performance.

(Too tired to proof read it, deal with it Alec )

[Margrett]

There was a small uneven clapping from the wall, near the entrance door. A familiar blue figure stood, smiling bemusedly, daintily clapping, one hand holding a small goblet of something undoubtedly alcoholic. She was dressed in a full suit of glimmering, ornamental armor, engraved with flowers and vine patterns down the edges, buckles and overlapping plates and links expertly crafted and beautiful. Graceful winglike protrusions dotted it, making the joints more angular and distinct. Her hat seemed larger and embroidered with silver around the head, a purple feather stuck in it. Below that, a delicate silver mask that covered her eyes and the sides of her face, on either side of her jaw. Draped about her shoulders was a large, elaborate blue cape. What may have struck Grayell was her posture; she moved normally with a conservation of motion and energy and undeniable strength. Now she carried herself with a practiced imperiousness. Despite her nervousness for the unfamiliarity with this place, she acted confident and secure, her posture proud but inviting.

She stood with some of the fae folk gathered about to watch the performances, and tipped her hat to Grayell and Kiko, her smile a little bit of a mischievous smirk.

[Kiko]

During Grayell's tale Kiko dearly wished for some of the childish enthusiasm she saw displayed. He was a wonderful story teller. He brought the world to life with his mannerisms, voice, and actions. Like all good tellers of tales, he made you forget where you were or what you had been doing while listening to the story.

His voice rose and fell at regular intervals and in the right places to prompt fear, wonder, or suspense. Not a talent that everyone could claim, at all. Kiko gave a soft sigh, and returned her attention to the story. She’d not heard this tale before, and doubted very many had, at least not any outside of wolf kin. It was fascinating.

When he got to the end, though, and the Wolf spirit Tanto approached she smiled widely. Kiko remembered him from Grayell’s own memories. She’d been so caught up in the story, too, she only now noticed the blue woman who had appeared. She recognized Margrett beneath all the finery and feather.

Kiko left her chair while the Wolf was making his bow to Mab. She waited for him to turn before walking forward and lifting up on her toes to offer him a kiss.

A wonderful story, Chosen.

[Grayell]

Grayell's eyes widened suddenly and the smile was inevitable given her sudden words. Chosen? His eyes simply drank her in before she could kiss him, complete infatuation and fascination welling up and making his heart race. His hand lifted to her cheek and settled there, warm and gentle.... and he melted a little. His voice was soft and for her alone.

A chuisle mo chroi.

He kissed her then, his lips pressing almost desperately, firmly to hers, him sinking into that sensation and giving his everything to the moment. He had no thought for anything else then, they were bonded in every way.

[Kiko]

Kiko's hand sank into his hair with the kiss. She didn't need to understand the words to know what they meant it was in his eyes. She gave a little mewl of sound though, when he pulled away from her. She had not wanted the kiss to end.

She remained standing, her other hand curled into his.

This would be my cue. I too, will offer a story for those gathered here, should it please you Mab.

She waited for the Faery Queen to motion her forward and then beckoned to the those that had gathered for Grayell's story.

She started quietly. Her voice was soft by nature, but like the night she'd entertained him and Zaedus with the tale of the priest, it built upward as she went.

He awoke and stretched, spine rippling underneath his white and gray furry coat. A twitch of a white tipped tail and he dashed into the windowsill to absorb the sunlight. As the sun’s heat settled into his fur he purred and curled against the tattered stones. The palace was a wreck, forgotten, abandoned and in dreadful condition.

The cat who sunning himself in the broken window did not see these flaws of course, it was home. Ages ago it consisted of many multi-storied, shingled buildings linked by covered corridors. It had even been surrounded by spacious gardens filled flowers, fruit trees, man-made ponds, hills, and dozens of small pavilions. Not now, of course, now those gardens were profuse with unkempt and untamed growth, fruit rotting on trees and vines, the pond smelling of brackish water, pavilions crumbling into dust, and the hills long gone over to a myriad of animals. From time to time however village children would come and play, scrambling over the once extensive structure.

She took a chance to run her eyes over her audience stop for just a moment to allow the image to sink in.

The small cat watched now, barely moving, as two young boys dodged about in the rubble of rocks. Nothing especially interesting about it, simply the play of children but he recognized these two. They came more often than most, and sometimes not to play, sometimes they just sat beneath the shelter of the one corridor still intact. He had watched them cry, holding each other whimpering and sobbing.

This morning they seemed cheerful, and so the small white and gray cat, who had a name, but it was long and ponderous and he hated using it, decided to venture down from the highest pagoda he’d made his home in to see if they would play with him. Nearly silently, the shadowed form climbed down a long curving ridge and past the wide main building. He paused for a moment and peered at the huge platform sunk into the floor at the center.

Her voice dropped in tone became reverent and awestruck.

It was shrine of sorts, to the princess that lay sleeping there. She was covered with a thin veil of gauzy silk to keep the dust from her skin. The cloth rose and fell slowly with her faded breaths. He had, from time to time, crawled under the cloth to lie against her body, bolstering his warmth with hers. But, not once had she stirred from her deep sleep.

There had been a time when the Hall was filled with all manner of men from far and wide. Wise scholars enchanted by her beauty, roguish knaves determined to gain her dowry, foreign princes who wanted to add her land to their kingdoms, and mighty warriors who desired strong sons from her body, yet none could conquer the veil of sleep that gripped her. No magick, no sleight of hand, no charm of voice, or strength, woke the sleeping princess from her deathly slumber. The cat, as was his habit, ran past the altar and flicked his tail against the gauze to stir away the dust.

Kiko ran her foot against the ground to rustle up any dust upon the floor.

Today was too full of promise to stop and scurry up on her. Today was for fun and merriment, and perhaps a nice crunchy treat or two. Nimble paws flew over the scattered rocks and broken tiles that littered the once magnificent stronghold; its glory long past and the faithless suitors gone to other passing fancies, the halls silent save for the call of birds and his own mewls.

She edited that last bit, just a little; in case there were mouse creatures she hadn't noticed in among all the others.

There was naught to do today but roam the grounds and he hoped that the two boys would join him. They were not of his kind, but the cat liked children. He wandered out into the courtyard where the boys were chasing each other about the sprawl of rocks. A loud meow was played across the air, the call pregnant with a question.

“Will you play with me?”

The twin boys looked up to see what had caused the call. They turned and spied the cat as it leaped from rock to rock and then stopped to lick its paw. The small furry foot was then dashed behind an ear to scratch. They had seen the cat before and decided to draw near. Taking each other's hand they moved across the weed strewn gardens towards the small gray and white shape.

The cat was pleased. Yes, these boys would play, and he taunted them with a sweep of his stubby, white tipped tail and dashed back inside the palace. The boys hesitated as the small form swept inside the looming hulk of the building. Long told stories warned that none should go within the walls of the palace or be a victim of its curse. And yet, there at that moment, the cat's presence seemed to calm them and so they dashed inside.

The chase was on.

The cat was careful not to lead the children over any floors that were rotten, or under the ceilings that occasionally dropped tiles. Soon the playful game of cat and children tumbled into the main hall. Both boys stopped and gasped as they spied the sleeping form of the princess. Timidly they approached, their hands clasped tightly together for combined courage. Small shivers ran through them and they wondered at this sight before them.

Her voice had risen again, quivery and fearful.

The white and gray cat was taken by surprise as the chase ended and the boy approached the sleeping princess. It had been so long since anyone had taken notice of her, not in any way that meant anything to the cat or the sleeping girl. Nevertheless, and unsure of what they might find; one boy reached out and touched the gauze that covered her. The other let his hand join his brother and they peered beneath the dusty cloth.

The cat leaped upon the dais and wormed his sleek form onto the princess’ chest. His little gray speckled paws kneaded against her skin and then he startled and dashed away as her cerulean eyes snapped open. The cat looked on in wonder as she slowly sat upright, one hand rubbing over her face. The boys too dashed back in fear, but they were gripped by the gentle smile that covered her lips. Shyly they smiled back and whispered.

“Utsukushii Josei,” they said in unison.

The cat, curious as ever, slipped back to the altar and leaped up into her lap as the gauze was swept aside. She sneezed as the dust tickled her nose and a soft giggle burst from her lips when cat landed. The two small boys were given another smile. She whispered back a reply slowly, for her lips were still held in the grip of the long sleep.

Kiko's voice was stretched out now for the next few words.

Quickly, the story was relayed between the four of them. How the princess had been cursed by her overbearing father. Never pleased with any suitors as, deeply hidden within his heart, he had desired her for himself. Of course, such a thing would not have been granted. And so, he had the curse laid; for her to never find the light of day again until touched by those that desired nothing of her that was selfish or base.

Being a princess and rightful ruler of such wealthy lands, this quality was not found in any of her suitors. The cat himself did not qualify, for his touch stole away her warmth. But the boys wanted nothing, in the childish way they only sought to see, and thus had broken the curse.

The princess laughed wryly as she looked around the ruins of the only home she had known. She picked up the dusty cloth that had entombed her as the boys told of their father. He was also was cruel and harsh, desiring only selfish things and often beat them when they did not do as he wished. The princess smiled to her new companions, and gathered all three in her arms, whispering to them.

"Tis alright my friends, for I have a secret trove of treasures not far from here, and a need to go out into the world again. And for you, you little fiend, I’m sure we can find you some mice."

The grey and white cat purred and burrowed into her arms as they slowly set out to start anew. The princess eagerly left the ruined palace and traveled the world, taking the two young boys as her charges, and raising them as her own. Their father was banished from the country as was her right being heir to the power of this ancient realm.

Kiko looked at her audience again, her voice conspiratorial.

You know what happened then?

Several voices spoke up with the question and she just smiled and waved them closer.

The cat? Why, the little white and gray cat grew lazy and was loved dearly until the end of his days, always a companion to the princess.

What you can take away from this story?

Only this: You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need.

[Grayell]

Grayell had found a seat with the children in fact, not far from her as she told her tale, him sitting cross legged and quite enamoured with her story telling. He clapped as it were completed and smiled wide, proud as she was done. He took her hand with a bow and led her back to their seats.

Marg meanwhile had been seated with her escort as well, across from them. She had been presented with both food and wine of course, all of it quite magical and delicious.

The queen smiled graciously at the completion of Kiko's story and spoke with a natural elegance that danced over the senses.

"You both tell a marvellous story and as I have said, you have nothing to be wary of during your stay here. That is my word."

She turned to Marg then and smiled, studied her for a time.

"You... would you not share with us a performance? I would consider it a kindness...."

[Margrett]

Margrett leaned over to hear what the fae consort gentleman said and giggled despite herself, clapping daintily again with the others at the story. She didn't know why it was storytime hour. Maybe that's how they fae entertained themselves. She took a small sip of the stuff from her goblet, wobbling a tiny but. Was it magical? Maybe. But it was damn good besides.

The stories had been good, really good, and as she was asked for a "performance" she blinked and leaned back bemusedly.

Never was one for telling....stories. Not ones folk such as yourself'd wanna hear.

Though still dignified and imperious, her voice was a little...slurred. She stood anyways and walked around the table, gesturing with her hand as she spoke.

But let's see if I can't rustle something up. Lemme tell you all about a man. A man named William and how he met one of ya'll.

See, William was a good, honest man. Made his living keeping law in this little town on the coast, lorded over by a noble. The noble was a cruel, cruel bastard, hated him, hated what he stood for, how he went about his days. Was envious of him. Of his strength of character.

So one night, a woman shows at the doors to the mansion the noble lived in, all bundled in rags and old and decrepit. She...

She stopped, miming holding something in her hand.

Had in her hand a single, beautiful, red rose. It still had dew on it, like she'd plucked it that morning and guarded every bead of water. She knocked on the door, and the noble answered.

Her countenance changed to a frightened and creaky one, and her voice got raspy and low.

"Please sir, spare an old beggar a room for the night and some bread," she said. "I have nothing to give in return...but this rose."

The noble scowled and rolled his eyes.

She stood up straight now, a sneer forming on her lips.

"A single rose? For a room in my home? You are as foolish as you are old and senile, woman. Be gone from here, and find someone less naive to help you."

He slammed the door in the woman's face.

She paused for effect.

William heard all this from the street. As the beggar walks away from the door, he holds out his hand and smiles.

Her voice got strong, and deep, and kind.

"I'll be taking that rose, ma'am. And you'll be coming with me."

William was a poor man. Barely enough to eat at times, and his home was creaky and drafty. But he shared what he had. He went without food and a bed so the beggar woman would be fed and warm. In the morning he awoke and saw the woman on the bed....but she wasn't old anymore.

She smiled.

In the night, her disguise melted away, and she became...beautiful. Stunning, radiant, dressed in green and red and jewels. He doesn't want to wake her, and instead makes her a meal. After a while she wakes up on her own, as if knowing when he finished, and tells William she is not a normal woman. She's a fae. A noble herself, roaming the world for adventure, looking for a man who wasn't corrupt, wasn't powerhungry. Who was noble, and strong, and kind, but had less than he deserved.

The fairy queen spent that day with William. And when she left she gave William a necklace with a green gem.

She put down the cup and reached behind her head to unlock her own necklace, holding up.

William was my father. And he gave this to me, to remind me that your real character is who you are when only the beggars are watching.

She smiled, replacing her necklace.

[Kiko]

Kiko was quietly polite while Margrett gave her performance. She played her hand over the Wolf's arm and shoulder and watched the reactions of the Queen and her court.

She knew nothing about Margrett, really. Beyond the fact she claimed a friendship. She had not decided what her feelings were in regards to that, either. On one hand, she did not think her very respectful, especially of personal space. But, that could be product of her upbringing, Kiko had no way to know.

The story, though, gave a bit of insight to her. She obviously cared deeply for her father, a sentiment Kiko understood. She clapped when the story ended, naturally, and continued to think on it.

[Grayell]

Grayell seemed a little more surprised by Marg's story, his people's tradition was quite rich with dealings with the Fae folk, but he had discovered that most other cultures had little understanding of them and the subtle reality they inhabited. But a story of Mab herself... well that was quite a boast.

He took it for what it was though, a fascinating story; and it only fuelled the curiosity he already had regarding Marg's father. This also was not his place to say much of anything, what with the Queen herself present. This was her ball after all.

The Queen did not say a great deal on the matter either but smiled rather simply.

"Your father was indeed wise then Margrett."

Everyone sat then and enjoyed the last of the meal, conversations here and there punctuated by beautiful faery music playing all the while. It was a fascinating spectacle, the folk gathered here were of indescribable nature; so very varied was each form and face.

When the meal was concluded, the Queen nodded to one attendant and immediately the open floor was cleared. People rose from their seats and Marg's escort offered her a hand, each couple winding out onto the floor. The musicians held their tunes in eager anticipation, it appears it was time to dance.

Grayell rose from his seat and bowed to Kiko with a smile, a hand held across his waist and the other following it to his side.

If you'd be so kind milady.

[Kiko]

She took his hand. She didn't know the dances, but it mattered little so long as she could stay inside the Wolf's arms. She wasn't quite sure about the clothing, though. The dress was long and dragged the floor. It took no few steps to get used to that movement and rustle behind her footfalls.

But, like everything else so far the dancing was harmless enough. Her eyes slid down Grayell's body when it made one turn away from her. Okay, so, harmless was the wrong word. He looked better than the faery escort that had brought her into this room.

[Margrett]

Margrett followed the escort out to the dance floor, still a little wobbly and smiling nervously. She looked up at the man and whispered.

I...I'm not so much up on the dancing thing, hun.

[Grayell]

The queen looked on as her guests took to the floor and the music began.

Grayell slipped Kiko's hand to his shoulder, then placed his hand on her waist. He took her other hand and held it gently, smiling as he leaned in to whisper.

I have no idea what I am doing.

But the dancers began, turning and stepping as the music flowed, each pair swirling across the floor in lazy arcs.

Marg's escort took the lead for her, his large, almost blank eyes staring almost into her, his gentle features smiling if only subtly.

Grayell winced a little comically as he fell out of step, quickly hurrying to fall back in with the rhythm. He was enjoying himself though, his eyes laughed as he looked to Kiko, then looked either way to make sure they weren't colliding with some hapless couple that had more sense than he did.

[Margrett]

Margrett tried to follow the man, feeling totally ill at ease with herself, her body used to strong, violent motions, not sweeping delicate ones. The drink hadn't helped either. She held onto the fae man a little more tightly than she should have, looking variously at her feet, the people around them, and him. He seemed....empty. Her eyes were black and white, but his were just black. It seemed soulless and strange. She cocked her head at him.

What's your name, hun? Don't think I caught it. Is this your job, babysitting drunk mortals to make sure they don't do anything stupid?