Sol Saanvi Dayal | F | Bonded: Salacia| M: Salacia, Sana, Manon, Howl (ind.), Camila, Galladis, Aztiello

Sol glanced up, focus torn from the dragonling, as an elf slid a bowl of brilliant, fire-red fruit towards her. (Nothing natural was that color - probably poisonous. Maybe it'd make her insides rot out, and she'd have a week to live - oh, that would be such fun.) Immediately, she recognized the elf as Orrian. He had changed outfits, into something more elegantly simplistic than the attire worn by some of the others. He suited the outfit - or the outfit suited him - but because fashion was just so important, she felt she just decided subtlies of phrases as such were not her problem. Long story short, she thought it looked nice. She wasn't quite sure what the standard of formal attire was, or really what anything should look like outside a solid pair of boots, trousers, a tunic, and a hardy cloak. For all she new, poofy skirts could be in as of now, and so thank the stars above she hadn't been shoved into one of those.

Miss Water Buffalo, he quipped, and Sol lifted an eyebrow, the smallest of smiles on her features. She found it hilarious he had even remembered. Most were a little too busy gawking at her ears, at her face, at her height, for the Dilling's sake, to ever mind what words came out of her mouth.

"I'd prefer noble river beast, thank you," she responded, face even, and devoid of any sort of expression. If someone didn't know any better, she may as well appear completely serious.

Firae, as he called it, was tart, but vividly flavorful. She offered a piece to the little blue dragonet, before taking some for herself. Would anybody really care if she just... kept the bowl of fruit? Then, she didn't care if they cared, so screw the unspoken rules of a ridiculously overly-stocked dinner table with enough stuck-up entitled nobility to inherit a castle.

Sol drew the bowl closer.

The cool wood brushed her right wrist, and immediately, she reached out to tap it with her left. Then with her palm. She was never quite sure why these impulses decided to worm their way into her head, but she supposed she had more important things to worry about.

"Adjusting? Mhm. Is that what they call being thrown into a relationship with an overgrown reptile and a complete breech of mental privacy now-a-days?" Sol responded, a ghost of a smile on her features. "And it looks like you'll be having fun with an ice lizard pretty soon. Let me know if he snows on you in your sleep or something," she continued with, obviously amused.

Sobering herself, Sol inclined her head, regarding Orrian carefully, thoughtfully. Observing. She opened her mouth, but she never got the chance to speak, because the tent seemed to explode into chaos all at once. For starters, two more people approached - one, the woman bonded with the wind dragon, who was entirely beautiful in her dress. And then Sana sat nearby, and hurled some pork at a guard, which Sol found incredibly amusing. This day had probably ruined her already disaster of a life, but hey, at least her future with meat-throwing entitled elves may be fun.

And then Sol nearly choked on the piece of Firae she had been casually chewing on when she felt her tunic and trousers morph on her body. Black silk and robes, edged in lilac and rose gold somehow replaced the clothes of a commoner, and it took everything in Sol's composure to remain still, even when internally, she just about shrieked in horror. Magic. Magic. She understood what had just happened, of course - Sanasiliare. Arrogant and entitled, obviously, if she thought she was in a position of such authority that she could just completely replace her damn cloths, for the Dilling's sake.

Swallowing a panic, Sol stood, eyes blazing. She placed her hands carefully on the table, composing herself, and leaned forward. "I know I don't mean much to you - hell, I don't mean anything to me either - but I don't care. If I'm not mistaken, you owe me a pair of boots, and the whole damn outfit I was wearing. Hate to break it to ya', but it's considered a complete invasion of privacy to tear off someone's clothes and replace them with something of your choosing," she snapped, voice cold and unwavering. She couldn't wear these clothes, she couldn't. They were fine silks and cloth, and it felt wrong to have them wasted on her, for the river's sake.

Before Sol could say anything more, someone who looked like a princess sat gracefully, and introduced herself. Sol twisted her head to stare.

Shit.

And that was the actual princess. Of course. The pale skin was recognizeable, as was the family name. By the devil, this was getting more absurd by the moment. The universe's humor was on point today. Someone ought to go applaud whatever demons orchastrated such chatastrophes. Really, a tactical masterpiece. A newcomer approached, and adressed the halfling. Sol watched, sizing him up. "Nah, back where I'm from, we shove each other off cliffs for a past time. I'm calling this a vacation," she responded, face straight. The cliff incident was only once, anyway.

Of course, then the dragonborn collapsed, the ice egg started to hatch and wail, and everything burst into further screaming, chaos, and shouting. Sol whipped around to face the chaos, sharp eyes picking out the details of the scene.

Ground yourself. Stay calm stay calm stay calm, her mind screamed.

Sol blinked her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and focused on the sound of Orrian's voice, of the elven tongue. It was a lilting language, elegant and graceful, unlike the rough river-swept sound of her own.

Think. Figure this out.

It would be stupid to shove her way through the crowd, with a potentially panicked dragon with her rider. She could offer no medical help, had no sort of command over anyone, and would be of no value. Big surprise there. So she may as well just observe, try to stay out of the way - by the spirits, she was absolutely useless. Her utter pointlessness was pretty great - she could quietly excuse herself from any situation, because she wouldn't be of any help anyway. Gave her an excuse to sit back and wallow in her complete lack of motivation and incompetence. Always a fun pastime, of course.

Casually, Sol fell into her chair, leaned back, and began picking at the Firae once more. It really was excellent.

Re'enalla "Wren" | F | Moon Dragon | Galladis, Orrian

He was dying. Galladis- her lifelong friend, her bonded- was dying. She could feel the poison eating at her mind just as it ate at his body. For a long moment, all she could do was... lie there. And so she did. She lay there, wrapped around her bonded in an embrace, wishing, hoping, praying her dragon prayers that he'd survive, that she wouldn't go wild, that he wouldn't die. He couldn't. She spent her whole life protecting him, as he did her...

And she failed him.

I'm so sorry, Addis. With her teeth, she gently picked up the vial and placed it in the elf's hand. For a few moments, she stared at him intensely. He had to use it. She pointedly moved her head from the vial in his hand to the now unconscious Dragonborn, acting as if she were human. She used her front talons to show him- use the vial, let him drink it before he dies.

Even her own chest had started burning... she'd found out that only under extreme pain could she feel what Galladis was feeling with his physical state of health. It wasn't like most dragons, but she was glad this was how it was with her. Not that she liked it... but she knew when Galladis was in a fatal state. And now was no exception.

She could feel acid. Burning, liquid acid, running through all her joints and muscles- it made her want to dive in an icy lake, rip herself apart, cry out in a song that she could sing alone. She hardly ever used her songs- when she knew others would be disobedient. Other than that, she kept to her convincing ways.

Something told her to stay. Something made her wrap herself tighter around Galladis, drawing Orrian in with her weak wing to help him. She couldn't even imagine how Galladis felt if she was in this much pain... Help Addis! Will you help Addis? Please! For now... all she could do was watch him and hope he saw what she meant.

Zebeythrae (Zeb) Leoriethty | F | Bonded: Cathix | Mentions: Galladis, Wren, Cathix, Everyone else(Ind)

She could feel his eyes on her and she turned just in time to see him turn away. An eyebrow raised in question and she began to slowly walk over to him. “Galladis are you-” Her words caught in her throat when he collapsed. She picked up the skirt and began to run over to him but stopped when she saw Wren come crashing in. The fabric of her skirt fell from her hands as her eyes watched him getting up weakly. She took a few more steps towards him but paused when someone caught her attention and she was distracted for a few moments speaking with a fae that had walked up to her.

The sound of a hand landing against the table brought her back to the chaos that was happening and she moved through the crowd rather forcefully. “We need to make room.” She growled pushing one person a little too roughly but she wasn’t stopping to look back. Her eyes were glued on Wren and how she was lying curled around Galladis. Her own heart stopped for a moment and then she was running the rest of the way to kneel by the elf and dragon. She placed a hand gently on Wren’s leg near Galladis looking up at the dragon with tears edging in her eyes.

“Please help him.” Her voice cracked as emotions washed over her when her attention snapped to the elf holding the vial of antidote. “Please…” Her voice was almost pleading as she looked down to Galladis and moved a hand to gently cup his face. “You can’t leave me…You promised.” Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions and she quickly clamped her eyes shut trying to calm the chaos from the outside world that was also invading her mind.

I am sorry Cathix. I don’t know...what came over me. Her thoughts were almost tired as she opened her eyes feeling the eyes of those around them burrowing into her back as she stayed kneeling by the fallen dragonborn and his dragon. For a moment it looked as though she was resigning the fate until she held her hand out to the elf.

“It looks like this is too heavy of a burden for you, let me be the one to administer the vial.” The tears and pleading that had been in her voice just moments before had steeled as she looked towards him. Her eyes a darker hue as she waited knowing that any second could be a second too long.

“For the gods above, do something!”

Azo | Earth Dragon | Bonded to Topaz | M: Topaz, Galladis, Wren

Topaz fixed the flower.

Azo wasn't quite sure how she managed to do it, but it certainly eased his meltdown - by the time they were in the tent, his tears had nearly evaporated. Immediately, he was swarmed by the overhwelming scents of food - salty, sweet. Tart and bitter, everything imaginable, it seemed. As Topaz found her own spot, the tiny dragon removed himself from her arms, and hopped to the seat next to her, sitting with his wings folded.

He glanced over to her, then did his best to mimic how she was positioned, upright and close enough to the table to reach the food. Azo scrunched his face and scooted forward, only to realize that he had no way of reaching anything set on table well. Peeking over the edge, he focused intently, trying to figure out how he might be able to reach.

He was distracted by Topaz's voice, and an offering fruit. Maybe he was hungry, because his stomach seemed to flip and flop in excitment. Taking it gleefully in his little talons, he sniffed it carefully, examining the fruit.

What do you even eat, anyway, his human questioned.

Immediately, he lowered the fruit, expression forrowed, deep in thought. He ate... the fruit in his hands. Yes, that made sense. Maybe there was a better word? Azo picked through his instinctual knowledge, likely most of Topaz's vocabulary, before nodding to himself, satisfied.

"I eat food," he responded, evidently pleased with his answer. He wasn't exactly sure what food entailed, but he hoped it involved this piece of fruit. Then again, what if it didn't? If he ate food, and this snack wasn't food, could he not eat the red fruit? Oh. That would be sad. He didn't like the thought of that at all. Maybe... maybe if he ate it, it would become food. Yes, that made sense - so, if he ate a rock, the rock was food, and he could eat pebbles. That must be it!

Azo took to nibbling at the fruit as he watched the happenings of the table, wide-eyed, soaking it all in. It seemed everything happened at once. Chimborazo had been quietly and politely gnawing at the dried firae - which he definitely liked - when someone collapsed, and a whole flurry of activity erupted. People were yelling, and Azo shrank down, golden-eyed gaze wide as the moon. Ruff paling to a washed-out, panicked green, he scrambled back to Topaz's chair, clinging onto her arm.

"Topaz, I bit him. The mean man who squished azo. I don't think he's moving," Azo whispered, face rather horrified.

Sanasiliare Areauveçh Latitharen | F | Elf Judge | Sol, Orrian, Camila, others?

Sana pondered Sol's reaction. She understood it- most hated her for changing their clothes, since they didn't know it was temporary. Her power was by no means perfect, and it was never permanent. Heck, she could only hold her electrical charge for around ten minutes before it flickered away. Occasionally, it decided to make itself last much longer. In Kur's presence it always had.

She stood up, long limbs pressing her clawed nails into the gritty wood of the table. She towered over the halfling. Shorty. "Sol." Her eyes moved, albeit passively, over Sol's clothes. "I would like to begin with saying that my change is in no ways permanent. Your clothes will return to normal later this evening." Raising her hand, she gestured to the new robes draping over the woman.

"And on another note, I would like to discuss a matter with you. Perhaps not immediately, but soon." She lowered her voice so only Sol could hear. "I knew your mother." A hand flicked up to her scar, and she had to force it back to the table as her face briefly winced. It hardly bothered her nowadays. There were some times, though, when she could still feel the burn of teeth and claws on her skin.

"That is all."

As soon as she seated herself again, another of the riders sat beside the two. She'd introduced herself as Camila Moncello, clearly a noble as she had a regal name and appearance. Funny. If she didn't know better, she'd have said they were all related- an elf, an elf halfling, and a human. But she knew better. "And I'm Sanasiliare, from the large family."

Raising a bemused eyebrow, she cocked her head at Camila. "I could be of the Latitharen family, but I suppose I never knew." She shrugged. True enough- Kur had never told her his surname, and she hadn't met her mother. Perhaps Nach told her...?

The air was brisk, wind roaring through the valley. "Do we have to be out here?" The frozen air chilled Vici to the bone, and she was beginning to think there were worse things than Hveit. Loleineis gave her a sneer. "You know what master wants." Nach took that opportunity to step in, getting in between the two children. "Leine, you know Viss doesn't understand Kur like you, or know him as well as I. Let her be."

Nach pulled Vici to the side, grinning at her. "Aw, she's just mad because Kur won't tell her his plans. It involves his last name, this valley, Hveit, and I." His shoulders fell. "He's trying to tie his name into the earth so he can control it. Pulling all the stops on this one- going so far as even blood magic. Blood magic doesn't work, but he was never convinced." He moved a hand around his wrist, looking absently at her.

"Apparently I'm the only one who shares his last name. Hveit is to bring me the result of the ritual, since Kur can't be here for it." Vici tipped her head, bringing her arms up to his cloak in a fluid motion, twisting herself into the coat with him. He gave her an affectionate look. "What is his last name? Does he even have one?"

He rubbed a bruised finger over her forehead softly. "You would have his name too... he'd had to become our father. You would be safer if you didn't know. Are you asking for...?" She knew what he was asking. Of course she did. They both knew the answer. After a silent moment, he sighed. "You know, my mother's surname was Machlonnen." He smiled down at her.

She smiled back, ignoring the heavy wingbeats in the distance.

Snapping out of it, she shook her head. Her face stopped by the tent entrance, looking at the swaying flap and distinctively Orrian feet. She was tempted to go after him, but... she'd have to pass the whole scene before her. It was just as chaotic as it could be, nothing particularly special or annoying about it. Of course, it wasn't a normal situation at all- but she still didn't care much of it.

Her thoughts switched over to Orrian. She had to have someone to turn her mild affections onto, right? Since inter-race relationships weren't her thing, that left just Orrian and Topher. The prince, it seemed, always had his head out of the game... so her only true option was Orrian. He'd never known, had he? Perhaps she should shout it at him.

Not that she was treating him as such for his being an only option, but she actually enjoyed his... odd antics. In a mild sort of way. Though anyone- anyone!- who tried to get a smooch on her Orrian would PAY. They would go and get a nice smack, then she'd be more than happy to possessively move over to kiss him as if they were always like that.

No doubt he'd be surprised. But that's he fun part. She had everything plotted fiendishly in her mind, she just needed her wiry thoughts to figure out how to get the group drunk. Especially Orrian. That way if she did that he'd remember but she could excuse it on the liquor.

Rapidly, she snapped out of her thoughts only to find a hint of a smile at her face. Hopefully not one of those dreamy-eyed lover smiles.

Then again, how would she know?

Sol Saanvi Dayal | F | Bonded: Salacia| M: Salacia, Sana, Manon, Howl (ind.), Camila, Galladis, Aztiello

Sol had occupied herself, pointedly not addressing Sanasiliare, but she couldn't ignore the woman's words.

My Mother.

It was... a somewhat shocking revelation. Sol and her single parent had lived in a smaller city, far from elven domain - there was no logical reason for fair folk, traditionally isolationists, to ever be inclined to leave their little valley. Then again, Sana was practically a giant, far too tall, and a good few feet above Sol, and also far too tall, did she mention that? So, obviously, the elf was possibly possessed by some eight foot demon who with a love for wandering, so far as the desolate, rocky cliffs of Arfearnann. Yes, that was plausible.

All aside - Sol still found it... odd, that Sana would even remember her mother. Her tapestries, small knives, and even jewelry were trinkets that many travellers bought, but being shorter than Sol, and just as unremarkable, she was not one to be remembered.

And even so, the elf recalled an interaction with her - and it must have been significant, or eventful, for it to have imprinted a memory on Sana. Sol's mother was a woman of privacy, and it wouldn't be unlike her to keep things from her daughter for some time, but most often, they shared their memories, no matter how difficult. It was... strange.

Also, did she even believe Sana? She and her mother looked alike, but not that like. Then again, who's to say she didn't look a solid fifty years older? She had claimed to be a noble river beast. A few added years was nothing.

Although Sanasiliare had caught the halfling off guard, she didn't really have any sort of reaction. Even with the current chaos, there was something oddly serene about her expression, just passively nonchalant. It was difficult to care, and required an effort and motivation she just didn't have. "Suprised you noticed her, a good three below your nose," Sol finally murmurred, voice sarcastic, as per the usual. Something about the mention of her mother sobered her, even saddened, to a degree. She hadn't been able to reach her, and by nightfall, Sol should have met her here... somewhere.

She didn't want to imagine her mother, futiely searching for her daughter, while she remained stuck in beautiful robes she wasn't deserving of, and eating exotic fruits with a small dragon sitting in her lap. Nothing would be the same, and the thought deperssed her, if anything. It's not like she could run away, so Sol just wallowed in it, quietly observing.

And because she was simply watching, she didn't miss Sana's starry-eyed staring. So giant did have a weak spot, and for Orrian, no less. She was never going to live this down, and Sol straightened, mood lightening, if only a bit. "While you're pining after Orrian, Sanasiliare, maybe you should, I don't know, address the dying dragonborn over there? I imagine the grand regal miss Latitharen would figure out how to admister some... antidote, or whatever," she said, leaning back in her chair, and amused smile crossing her features.

"I'm Salacia. And yes, this day does seem eventful. Can I ask something? Why are you named Halfling? It is a strange name. Well, either way. It's a pleasure to have you here Halfling!"

The dragons words snapped Sol to attention. "Ha! I'm Halfling, because I'm halfway a giant magical pointy-eared one-with-nature free-spirt, and halfway a very ordinary human," Sol mused. "My nickname is Sol, though," she continued, with a small wink at the dragonet.

Zebeythrae (Zeb) Leoriethty | F | Bonded: Cathix | Mentions: Galladis, Wren, Cathix, Topaz, Everyone

Zeb took the vial and stuttered in her movements when Topaz asked how to get an unconscious person to drink the antidote. Her brows furrowed for a moment before she popped the cork out of the vial and pressed it to her own lips, careful to not swallow any of the precious liquid before lowering her face towards Galladis's. She closed her eyes for a moment as she pressed her lips to his letting the antidote pass from her to him hoping that there was still a small part of him that would instictively swallow at the shock of what was happening. She didn't linger longer than was neccessary and she pulled away using her free hand to gently caress the side of his face before looking around her.

"Can I get some help with getting him to the medical tent? Or would we rather sit around waiting to see if he wakes up from it from our comfy seats at the table with our dragons?" She stood and smoothed out her dress, which was very unlike the fae but something told her that she should take care of the beautiful fabric. With a huff she then kneeled down again and attempted to lift one of Galladis's arms around her shoulders watching as one of the guards seemed to come over and offer his help with bearing the male fae's weight. Zeb started to walk towards the door, only a very slight hiccup occured in her step when she realized what she had done in front of the crowd of people. Thankfully some of her white tresses were covering her face as she walked hoping no one would notice the embarrassment that was pointedly appearing on her facial features.

She waited a few more steps before muttering, "Damn you Galladis...Why must you make things so complicated between my head and my heart? Also I really hope you don't remember how the antidote was given to you...because I know you will never let me live it down if it gets out. I only hope I haven't ruined your reputation with my foolish actions."