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Darek suddenly gave a contented sigh, after drinking half a wineskin the world had turned into a happier place. Jyn crooned bobbing his little brown head up and down and sending his human a picture of a roasted wherry.

"So it's food you want eh?" he patted the little flit's head, "lets go get us some, I've had quite a drastic change in mood."

He dug into his pocket, he had a couple marks. Enough to stuff a temperamental flit and still leave him enough to fall into decent drunken stupor by nightfall. Darek grabbed the largest platter of food he could find and both man and flit stuffed themselves. For desert he went to the stalls and bought himself a couple of bubbly pies along with a large dried fruit Jyn was so fond of. As they walked through the crowd Jyn spotted a gold flit. He chirped in appreciation and stared at the gold. Darek observed the brown's odd behaviour with interest.

"She's out of your league mate," he chuckled and stroked the brown's chest with his index finger, "best you stick with greens."

Jyn crooned and sent him a worried feeling. That feeling of foreboding could only mean trouble. Darek looked through the crowd and saw a woman glancing around nervously. Darek's first impulse was to mind his own business, she had prbably taken something from a stall that didn't belong to her, or said just the right thing to piss someone off.
'Nope, I'm definitetly not getting into this one,' he concluded.

But as he began to turn away, Jyn nipped his ear. With and angry screech he then flapped towards the gold and her human. The harper winced as the little flit sent him angry feelings. With a sigh he gave in and followed his brown. Getting blissfully intoxicated would have to wait.

"Hello miss, are you alright? You seem a bit lost," he asked as politely as he could.
The brown flit chirped curiously at the gold.

"Uh sure...why not..." This was starting to get harder. The longer he was with her the more he couldn't tell her. If he did...he'd want a good head start...

They sat at a table and waved down a passing attendant. "Some Benden white, if you don't mind...a good vintage please. Some food as well," she said. She handed the man the rest of her marks. It was a lot, but as the vintner had said earlier: harper marks didn't buy a lot in present times. People were always hesitant to take them when there was a new Masterharper, not knowing whether productivity or quality of the craft would alter for the worse with the power shift.

Things were a little quiet while they waited for the food. He was quiet. She kept trying for things to say, but everytime she looked over at him she was reminded of how handsome he looked. Why was she flustered all of a sudden?

Ray looks up in surprise as the flits begin fighting, grabbing Isskio to keep her from joining in the battle. The queen settles down on Ray's shoulder, grumbling. She glances at the youngster, "Darek, eh? I'm Rayinte. You seem to have experience at causing trouble, but I'll put a good word in for you anyways," she grins, then flees through the crowd.

The shopkeeper didn't seem to be missing his blanket, so she tossed it around her head and shoulders like a shawl, wrinkling her nose at the musty runnerbeast scent. After putting a lot more distance between herself and the scene of the fight, Ray ducks between two stalls again, and sends Isskio up to look for those two Holders.

Before long, she's back, cheerfully reporting an image of the two holders brawling with each other. Sighing, she decides it may be best to just make a quiet retreat back to Fort Weyr; surely Wrath would send someone to pick her up?

Surely not! You haven't so much as exchanged pleasantries with the Lord Holder. It would be a slight if you attended and didn't greet him formally.

Ray winces. Wrath was right. She pulls off the makeshift disguise, folding it carefully over one arm. Well. First things first. She finds a stall selling uselessly frilly hats, and purchases one that's certain to draw attention. At another stall, she acquires a frivolous cape, which covered most of the distinctive embroidery on her dress.

Satisfied that her appearance has been adjusted sufficiently, she sets out to return to the dancing square. She thought she'd caught a glimpse of Tolara there, hopefully Fort's Holder was in the area.

Darek smiled as Jyn perched upon his shoulder and looked up at the warring flits with pride. It was something Darek had seen the brown do before, though usually it was usually done so as to take away prey or steal a tasty morsels from wild fairs.

"Rayinte," he said the word carefully, "I think I've heard that name before." He looked after the woman as she disappeared into the crowd.

"That was oodles of fun, can we go now?" he asked the flit over the commotion. Jyn chirped happily and sent him a picture of the little queen Rayinte had with her.
"You are hopeless."

Hal grinned as a brown flit appeared near the woman who apprached. "Yeah," he replied, "he's out enjoying himself for a bit." He looked up among the various flits flying about overhead, and whistled. One of them, a warm tan in color, chirped and circled down to land on his shoulder. He reached up to stroke the brown for a moment before nodding toward the picture. "What do you think, Sorin?" he asked the flit. The brown cocked his head, whirling eyes fixed on the portrait, and cheeped. "Would you like to have one drawn of you?" Sorin turned to him and cheeped again.

Looking back at the stall owner, Hal asked, "How much woud it be for you to draw a portrait of Sorin?"

His face soured further and he full out glared at the girl. "One through twenty" he snapped not naming the prize. It was obvious though, as the pots sat right next to the knife.