Padfoot and the Prince. (Ivory)

[bliedr]

The forest was a hum of activity. Aëthír loved throwing gatherings once in a while; he enjoyed the soft murmur of the trees as they watched the different elves and creatures gather around, and the warm laughs of his companions as they shared jokes and stories. Of course he always loved the music, and he tolerated the dancing. Barely.

Today was no different; the air was thick with the scents of honeys and perfumes, and fruits and leaves, and - upon occasion - the musk of an animalistic elf wandering past. Aëthír felt that he felt more at home in the midst of these friendly, foreign, strange cretins than in the gardens and houses of Ellesmera where the elves were all so regal and arrogant. It felt good to leave that behind.

A seemingly young girl bowed before him, and he cupped her face in his hand, and she smiled at him, before turning into a strange white-gold cloud, which smelt of nectar, and made his insides wriggle with delight. His mind, too, was filled with a kind of light, and he was careful not to stare straight into it. The 'Old Ones' of this part of the forest all had good intentions, but they could be dangerous to the sanity of those who tempted them. He passed through the pleasure-cloud, and greeted several more elves, before he sat down at an isolated table, pleasantly tired from recent events.

He waited, letting the coolness of the air wash over him as well as the flickering flames of many lanterns. He didn't like the flame-less lanterns of the rest of the forest; when he partied, he indulged in the luxury of the burning wicker and oil, with branches cut from the edge of the forest.

Aëthír didn't really care if anyone approached him or not, he would have been as glad to have company as he was pleased to be able to sit in isolation. He was however, wary in case of attack. He was always wary in case of attack...

[[-Kay-]]

The frame of what seemed to be young elf moved through the trees towards all the gaiety. She was followed by what was a rather frightening looking elf. Pan, the elf that carved mountains into labryinths, himself. He was one of the old ones, having taken on the appearance of the forest itself. A great pair of heavy, curled horns had even grown from his head. He was quite a sight to behold, but so was the small creature that darted around him like an excited little heathen. Ivory.

The girl was normally cool, collected, and rather frigid. But she could feel the magic and excitement in the air today. Ivory, by 'trade', was an assassin. But she was currently 'out of work', meaning she was taking time off to have a bit of adventure. She had been exploring when she found Pan in his labyrinth of stone that extended down into the depths of the earth. It was when she heard of this 'celebration' of sorts that she had convinced him to leave his stoney hideaway to come join in the merriment.

None of the elves here were armed, that she could see. But it was obvious that she herself was armed. She had a rather beautiful, if not wicked looking dagger at her hip. Garbed in a black shirt with thin straps to hold it up, most of her back was exposed. Her pants were tight, and a bit short. She had quite a bit of skin exposed, but it didn't bother her in the least. She couldn't be expected to wear too much, not if she had to change on the fly in order to escape.

At first glance, she was normal, if not a bit on the little...erm...tiny side. Her eyes were mottled, heterochromia having taken it's turn and made the colors beautiful and swirling in a strange pattern. She was pale, very pale, despite her time in the sun constantly. But all across her skin were black patterns and designs in black ink. Tattoos. She had her dark hair pulled back from her face a bit, many strands having fallen forward and obscuring parts of her face though. She smiled at an elf that she walked past, her dagger-sharp teeth exposed. Oh yes, rows of pointed teeth. She did not, however, know that this was Aëthír, and she continued past, looking back every now and then to talk to Pan, who was still lumbering along gracefully. "Come along, Pan. You aren't escaping this party. I didn't come all this way just for you to go back to your labyrinth." She had a lilting tone, like musical notes. But while it was beautiful, it was also frightening. Pan just chuckled and said slowly, "I will join you later, graceling. Just enjoy yourself. I will not go back to my mountain without you." This seemed to satisfy Ivory as she settled into watching the other elves dance and cajole about like fools.

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[bliedr]

Aëthír was only vaguely aware of the presence of Ivory in the city. He usually kept a close eye on all of the werecats - he never had any idea what they intended to do next. It was considerably harder in the case of a large gathering; she must have slipped through his detection wards, deliberately or not. He also saw that she was with a very strange looking elf, who she referred to as Pan. It was strange for him - as he was evidently very old - to follow a werecat, but maybe she made him feel young again.

He was content to let them pass by, but the elf went off on his own, leaving the young cat-person to sit near Aëthír. He sipped from a goblet that happened to be nearby, silently checking for poisons. There were none, and he let the warm liquor slide down his throat, and fill his stomach with warmth. He smiled brusquely, before stretching, cat-like, and settling back down on his chair.

"Have you been in the city long?" He asked the young girl. "And I don't mean long as far as elves are concerned." He smiled. His people could be so confusing sometimes, and it annoyed him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how humans and other races felt when trying to converse with an elf. Their immortality was the cause. For a moment, he regretted that, their pact with the dragons. But then he realized, without a binding agreement, that they would be dead, or still at war. And it was a terrible thing, to kill a dragon. He realized that he was digressing in his own mind; he had plenty of time to do that when he did not have company.

He turned to Ivory, and looked at her severely, trying to size her up. She was a fierce, savage little thing, covered in tatoos, and she looked like she could kill a turkey with her bare hands, despite her diminutive size. Aëthír didn't want to get on her bad side.