Welcome to Gaia! ::

She bowed her head a little lower this time, her hands going out to her sides as a show of good will. "I'm sorry if I have offended, spirit. I am a foreigner that is simply...trying to understand it all."

Sweeping a hand out, Soibhan gestures to the crowd. "They grow impatient with me. Thank you for your time, spirit of Autumn. I will think greatly on your words. I hope the rest of the evening treats you kindly."

With that, she smiled guardedly at him before disappearing back into the crowd to find Rajani.

It is a few moments before anyone approaches Llyr again. When it does occur, it is not a blushing maiden or a young noble with questions on his mind -- it is a slim, petite hind, who regards him with quiet green eyes for a moment before glancing over her shoulder for who follows. The hind has been draped with a garland of roses and Queen Anne's lace -- her Warden follows behind similarly attired.

Talbot has a mask on, a rack of horns sprouting from each temple, and is dressed all in deep mossy greens and bark browns and gold. They are a faerie king and queen. Talbot is immediately aware that this may be viewed as an insult.

He bows in a slightly old-fashioned manner to Llyr, but it is not the man who speaks, but the hind: "I hope your journey from the wood was a pleasant one, and that your time here has been useful to the Queen and the Wardens."

Talbot's voice is rough -- it has been since a few weeks ago, when Cesambre and Elias had to rescue him out of the Wardwood. It sounds as though he was swallowed gravel. Not an entirely bad thing, but not the smooth baritone he had before. "How long do the Wardens have?" he asks, before Cesambre can open his mouth to apologize for his journey.

He is a straightforward man. The sudden stiffening of his hind suggests this is not the best way to go about this.

Talbot nods: so he has read. He sighs, and his broad shoulders rise and fall with it, disturbing the leaves and branches (and one actual butterfly, killed gently and affixed to his costume). "I hope you will call on us when the time comes."

Cesambre looks from her chosen to Llyr and then nods, her own somehow less formal and final and more graceful, as if they are discussing dinner plans. As if she's apologizing for her overly formal Chosen. And then she just pushes him neatly out of the circle.

Faelan had stood aside, eves-dropping as politely as any courtier might. She spent some time simply absorbing the details Llyr had shared with others, but none of it touched on her question. Patiently, Faelan waited for the proper opportunity before stepping toward the Queen's guest.

Hazel green eyes sought-out the spirit's own as she presented herself. She offered a gentleman's bow to match her guise, the attire of a nobleman. Her face was hidden by a highly ornate mask, so heavily stylized as to make identification of its species impossible. The face she wore could have belonged to a deer or wolf, and neither the resemblance of antler nor fang could be found to confirm either way.

Though she clearly did not want to be known by others, Faelan felt no compulsion to fool the spirit. "My mother would have died happy to know the fair folk survive yet." It was a greeting, of sorts.

Faelan's smile showed through her eyes. She had always been fond of her mother.

"I hope it is not a lamentable resemblance," she joked lightly.

After a measured pause Faelan came to her real question, "If I may, is my understanding that your kind have a longer view of history, yes?" She leaned in just a bit closer, "Were the wolves of Sunderland always the greusome horrors human myth remembers them as?" Her voice was low and a touch grave. The topic was touchy at best, and Faelan was not keen to have eves-droppers misunderstand her curiosity.

Faelan did not respond verbally, but her eyes seemed to communicate something profound. Relief, perhaps. She regained herself after the moment washed over Faelan. "My mother would have died happy knowing that, as well," she whispered, inaudible to any save perhaps the spirit.

With a final, graceful bow, Faelan thanked Llyr for his time and offered well-wishes before she stepped away and disappeared into the forest of guests.