L’aire was observing and breathing in the fresh blossoming flowers. The ones that stayed hidden through the long Winter months, aching to come out from hiding. The chill around her made it difficult to want to touch the beautiful buds, afraid they would wilt and fall away.
The horned man came upon her. Pivoting, she saw the wing tips from his back. She smiled softly, shaking her head. “Oh, well, there are people at the bar and the buffet. It’s their turn to shine.” The Onyx didn't really want to say why she didn't want to go to either area. Now wasn't really the time. She did catch the buzzing sounds of the season from the Fairest. “And yours too.”
The Dancer set out her graceful aquiline hand toward the Irishman. “My name is L’aire. Sasha away from places like these.”