Finding the Shard

Felk sat in the back of the club, sunglasses pushed up his face. He'd had enough of the "I didn't see you there"s and "woah, your hair"s, and so moved back to the bar to be antisocial. He tied a cherry stem into a knot as he looked around at the masses. Gyrating, hideous beings. Ugh.

"Felk!"

He didn't hear.

"FELKYYYY!"

The Drow spotted Eiobhan from across the dance floor, waving him over. He rolled his eyes and sighed, sliding off of the bar stool and--

"s**t."

Felk leaned down and plucked a shard of glass from his sandal. He righted himself at glared at the mineral, as if it had somehow wronged him. There was a raver with a pacifier glowstringing behind him, and he watched for a while as the pink stick swung in wide arcs, illuminating the glass when it came close enough. It seemed almost as if suspended in mid-air; the partygoer lost in the blackness.

"FELKYYYY!"

"Coming!"

The Drow shoved the shard in his pocket and shuffled to Eiobhan.

"I'm bleeding. Kin we go? Seriously."

"Yeah, a'course, what happened?"

"I dunno. Someone broke a glass or somethin'..."