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Hold Infirmary and Healer Hall:
With a faint smell of redwort, the room is astonishingly clean, even for an infirmary. Recently made tapestries cover the outer wall of the cavern, protecting the patients from the weather outside. Shelves line two of the walls, with healing supplies neatly placed on the labeled slots. Cabinets are above them, where herbs and medicines are stored, a few with locks that only masters have access to. Cots line the remaining wall, with sheets that can be pulled around the bed for privacy or surgery. Glows are fastened everywhere, giving this room an intense brightness. 
You see Master Maladi, Melanie, and Brighteyes here.
You notice Allison and Kendrala asleep here.
Obvious exits:
Healer Passage

Liesana strolls in from the outside world, still covered in a fine film of trail dust. Yes, she's been riding with a bandaged hand. No, she did not fall off doing it. "Hey Zara!" she calls, cheerfully, but quietly. "I'm here, with my hand to be poked at at your leisure." A cheery look remains on her face, despite being in the Infirmary. Apparently someone's heard good news.

"...like that!" The healer exclaims toward a rather fumbling little apprentice who's before her, attempting to transfer numbweed. Zara is, by nature, a patient person. However, this particular bumbling apprentice is apparently trying her patience for her hair has partially come out of it's fastening and her eyes are flashing. "You'll get numbweed /all/ over yourself!" The apprentice, a gangling, freckled, pimply lad, looks up -- or rather, down at Zar -- his lip trembling. "'m sorry, journeywoman..." He mumbles. The healer's lips tighten and she shoves the two jars back into his hands, "Here. Do it your way, then." There. Now she can turn her attention to other things. In this case, it will be Liesana. Green eyes widen and a smile begins to form upon the journeywoman's features, "Lies!" Of course, eyes have to narrow as she steps forward, and then motions Liesana down onto a cot, "You've been riding." Blunt, aren't we? If she notices anything else about the harper's demeanor, she says nothing about it. "With a cut, infected hand." Pause. "Are you /daft/?" Of course, after this, the healers simply has to smile as she invites, "Here, sit down, and let me poke." The apprentice over there is now not paying attention to the numbweed, but rather to the two women.

Liesana chuckles. "You're as bad as a broody gold, you know that? Yeah, I was riding. I'm one of the better local journeyfolk in the saddle, and I need to earn my keep somehow, no? But I only rode with my good hand on the reins?" An attempt at placation. And then she holds her bandaged palm up for attention.

Of course, such a teasing comment is bound to illicit a snicker from the young man in the corner. The mock-glare she sends to Liesana turns into a real one that the poor apprentice receives. Mebbe she's PMSing? You never really know with this healer, do you? A more benevolent face is turned upon Liesana, "And you're a foolhardy weyrling. Now let me see that," Healer offers, shaking her head with apparent helplessness for this harper. As the hand is presented, Zar carefully unwinds the wrappings, taking pains to do it carefully so that it doesn't break any scabs on the other's palm. Once the wrappings are off, she shoves them to the side, as if they were some poisonous object. Which, of course, they are. Hand is examined, and eyes narrow, "Are you /sure/ you had to ride?" Blink, and then head jerks upward, "Where are you riding /from/?"

Liesana nods. "Quite sure, unless I wanted to spend a whole day walking." And here her pearl of news is dropped. "You are looking at the brand new Harper Liason to the Smith Hall." A mild wince as the wrapping is removed. It's gotten just a little bit crusted over.

Apparently it /has/ gotten a bit crusted over, for Zara's face wrinkles into a delicate little frown. Lips tighten once again as she examines the slightly-more-red-and-puffy-looking injury. It takes a little bit for Liesana's news to properly infiltrate her ear. Eyes widen and her head jerks upward again, "The smith hall? You're...posted at the smithall?" Incredulous would probably be the best way to describe Zar's reaction, her eyes wide and her tongue running over her lips to wet their rather dry expanse. "Congrats, Liesana!" The apprentice might have spoken except that Zara glances his direction and he skitters off to transfer the numbweed a little further from the two women and, conveniently, out of earshot. "Now," And of course, she's all business, "Tell me if this hurts." There's a light prod, first on one side of the slash, and then on the other.

Liesana nods, a wide, and just slightly goofy grin on her face. "Yeah, posted, and just back at the Harper Hall to get my things marshalled and sent over. Ow!" Apparently that /did/ hurt. "Yeah, I'd say that hurts. More on the right side than the left. Left just feels... normal. Like a normal open wound feels, anyway. Are open wounds normal?" Ah yes, the surefire remedy for pain. Bandy semantics.

Zara chuckles, her laughter bubbling forth despite her concern over the wound. "Of course, of course. Then agin, Lies, your underwear is apparently nothing the whole Craft hasn't seen, now is it?" She does have a point there, if it was hung out...or something. Zar only remembers small snatches of that story -- she was, after all, quite inebriated when it was told. Lips are pursed and she shakes her head, "I'm /sure/ you're very capable, but I can't let you apply them yourself." It's like letting someone have a free run with their prescription. Or something like that. Head cants to the side, "Formal suit?" Non-sequitor? No, the healer's just slow in responding. At least she finishes bathing the wound and moves off toward a cabinet and is soon riffling through it, apparently trying to find /just/ the right herb for the job.

Liesana chuckles. "Actually, that was /Lionel's/ unmentionables, not mine, but I don't put it past him to bribe the drudges into pinching /mine/." And then a nod at Zara's pronouncement. "Aye, I'll check in with the Healer, then... Although you know I had to at least ask." Point of pride, and then she takes pity on Zara's puzzlement. "Yeah, being a Journeyman now, and being trained in Law, I needed something I could wear to a trial. And I wanted to avoid a dress, if possible." Evil things, dresses, unless one's at a Gather.

Zara manages not to smile /too/ large as she pulls several jars down from the cabinets. Poor healer -- has to stand on tiptoe to do so. She's too short! The jars are opened and various crushed herbs taken out and brought to the washbasin where they're dunked and made quite wet. That done, the healer glides over toward the injured harper, "Hold out your hand," She commands, and then gets back to the conversation, "Avoid a dress?" Of course, such a thought hadn't even entered Zara's mind. "But...why?"

Liesana obediantly sticks out the injured appendage, palm up, and answers Zara's question with a smile. "Well, for one reason, I'm an unreconstructed tomboy who's idea of a practical outfit is anything you can climb a tree in. Another is that formal dresses are often better suited for Gathers, a third is that a pant suit gives an aura of sobriety and competance, which, at my age, is something I despearately need." And then a wink. "But mostly, I just wanted some new clothes."

Zara nods rather soberly at all the points Liesana has thusfar made. As she does so, she presses the herbs onto the offending spot. Hand darts out, grabbing a bunch of bandages which are then tied about the herbs in order to keep them in place. "If those start to hurt or burn or anything, go to a healer an' tell them. They'll fix it." They're rather mild, but there's no reason to injure Liesana further, right? She might have sensitive skin. As the last is stated, a grin breaks out over Zara's face, "Isn't that the best reason of all?" The bandage is tied off with a flourish and then Zar steps back. "I'll clean up here, and then might I accompany you to see this wonderful suit?"

At the moment, the herbs aren't burning or hurting at all. They just feel like a big, numb splotch of... stuff. Numbweed's good, yeah. So Liesana flashes a thumb's up with her good hand. "Nope, they're doing just fine... although again, I'll check in with the medico over at Smith... What /are/ they, anyways?" Liesana, curious as ever, obviously wants to know just what's been slopped on her. Without waiting for a reply, however, she bobs her head at Zara. "Oh, you most definitely have to see... I've already picked it up, you know..."

Zara's eyes widen and she mock-pouts. "But that's not /nearly/ as fun, Liesana!" After all, once it's already picked up, the magic has worn off, right? "Still, you shall have to model." Or /else/. She'll give you some fellis or something. Not that she's going to do that -- it's against Hall policy and stuff. Meanwhile, hand is waved, "Oh just a bit of Comfrey, some Hyssop, and some Mosstea." Her eyes flicker upward. She could go on for /hours/ about the properties of these herbs, and it shows in her eyes. There is, perhaps, a little pleading, but Zar controls herself. Wouldn't want to bore Lies to death, after all...

Liesana nods at Zara. "Comfrey, Hyssop and Mosstea... Interesting." And alas, no, she's not going to ask for more information on them. A smile is quirked at Zara. "Model it I shall, but why not take a peep at it first? And with that, one of the bags she'd carried in with her is opened, and the suit shaken out and help for viewing.

The Suit In Question: Liesana's linen outfit is perfectly suited for formal situations, without suffering from any of the boring drabness common to formal clothing. The pale blue jacket has a turned-down collar and long sleeves; these are accented by a narrow ribbon of black trim. At the neckline, a gauzy white ruffle falls in traditional fashion to her breastbone. Two square ebon buttons fasten the lower part of the jacket at her left hip. Her flat-front, tailored trousers match the jacket's hue perfectly. A single welt pocket adorns the front of the pants, while two button flap pockets are in the back. Matte black leather half-boots are on her feet, with slight, two fingerwidth heels adding to her stature.

Zara shrugs her shoulders, "They're mostly anti-inflamatories -- and Mosstea will protect against further infections because the area's already weak." You'll see that she's going to share whether or not Liesana asks. At least she made a short explanation, yes? As the bag is opened, the healer leans over, and then steps back, looking the suit up and down. A slow whistle forms from her lips and she nods her head appreciatively, "Sharp. Very sharp, Lies." Green eyes twinkle as she begins to clean up, "I think I'll just have to 'borrow' that for a bit..."

Liesana twinkles. "You could do that... or you could go commission one for yourself. Got a good price on this, too." Pride. Nice clothes are made even nicer when one saves money on the cost of them. "Senior Apprentice Donul's handiwork... Excellent quality, and he still has to sell them for cheap. But tell me, are you going to Kurt and Aerrin's 'fasting?"

Zara shakes her head, lips twitching slightly to the side, "I dun think so. I've got other things t'spend my marks on. Besides," She holds out the edges of her dress, "This dress is perfectly serviceable." Definitely warn, definitely faded, but all that counts as serviceable, right? Riiiiiiiight. Meanwhile...non-sequitor! Again! "Handfasting? Of course," The healer replies briskly, continuing her cleanup. "Why do you ask?"

Liesana grins. "Oh, because I'll be there. And if I can swing it, an unnattached Journeyman or two... And at any 'fasting involving Harpers, there's bound to be dancing, no?" She's privately come to the conclusion that Zara needs to get out more, and is busily doing her best to remedy the situation.

Zara has a matchmaker working for her. That's just /looveeely/. Then again, it makes sense. 23 and still not 'fasted. And no kids, either! She really /does/ have to get out more, now doesn't she? "An unattached journeyman?" Zara is clueless, as usual. "Dancing?" Cheeks are stained crimson with a flush and green eyes turn toward the task at hand -- cleaning up. "Oh no, I don't dance." And that's that...riiiiiight?

Wrong. Liesana has the bit firmly in her teeth, and will brook no opposition to her plans. And isn't mixing metaphors such fun? "Of course you do." rebutts the Harper. "Everyone can dance, it's just a matter of being shown how. And even if my friend fails to show up, I'm sure there's plenty of other folks." Read: males. "That wouldn't mind showing you the steps. You've got a gather dress, right?"

Zara shakes her head again, whisps of auburn coming again free from their binds on the back of her head. With a flourish of redwort, the healer finishes off her cleanup and the waste put in a special bucket that is taken out by senior apprentices -- wouldn't want anyone getting Lies-cooties, would they? Of course not. "I don't really go to gathers except t'sell perfumes or oils and you don't need a dress for that." Or at least, Zara doesn't, right? "Besides. It's so expensive." And she's got all those pets to care for! Lastly, her eyes find the floor and she shrugs, "I wouldn't want to be a burden, you see."

Liesana shakes her head. It's terribly hard to play faerie godmother when Cinderella seems patently unaware of all the princes out there to be found. Hand tended to and cleaned, she returns her latest clothing aquisition to it's bag, and pulls another from the bag beside it. "Well, you're going to be wearing one tonight... I had this thing made for my project presentation, and haven't worn it since. And it looks like it will match your complexion perfectly." And with a flourish, a green-and-gold bundle of something is shaken out. Go ahead and try to say no...

Blink. Blink. Blinkblink. Cue eyes widening into saucers of emerald. Her jaw would drop open but she's entirely too well-trained for such an obvious display of surprise. "I...I can't wear that, Lies!" The healer exclaims. She might as well be 13 for how she's acting at this particular time. She really /does/ need to grow up, now doesn't she? "It's too pretty. I'd ruin it. Besides -- I can't afford t'buy that from you." You'd think as a journeyman she'd have enough money. Apparently not?

The Dress in Question: Forest green velvet rustles over Liesana's gown, accentuating her figure without being blatant. A low, round neckline shows just a hint of cleavage, drawing attention subtly through a border of tiny leaves embroidered in gold thread. Below, a bodice is laced simply with gold ribbon and measured to snugness. The dress top is almost form fitting, except for the long sleeves that widen suddenly at the wrist, complete with embroidered gold leaf motif. The dress becomes more conservative further down as the green velvet gathers at Lies' waist, and is let out in a cascade of volumnous fabric that parts gradually to reveal an underskirt of lighter green and swishes along the floor to cover harper feet.

Liesana shakes her head, and continues to hold out the bundle of velvet cloth. "Nonsense. You /can/ wear it, you /won't/ ruin it, and you won't have to pay a single 32nd, because I'm giving it to you. Everyone needs a pretty dress, and I never wear this. It'll look better on you, anyhow, with those green eyes of yours. So wear it to the 'fasting, and just see how many of the menfolk are dancing attendance on you!" Her tone is emphatic, although her voice is kept down out of respect for the area around them. Fashion Files: On location in the Infirmary.

There might as well be a magazine, eh? It's like one of those things where they go and do makeovers on ugly people. Or something. Hesitantly, small trembling hands are held outward and the cloth is taken from the harper and held against Zara as if it were as precious as true gold and as delicate as spun glass. "Th-thank you LIesana," The woman replies, stammering as if she were a little girl once again. It's not fair how much these things can revert you! Briskly, so as to avoid any other hysterics, the woman straightens her back and a glint comes to her eyes, "You do realize now that you're going to have to help me put it on, yes?"

Liesana nods. "Most likely. At the very least, I'll do your hair for you. I'm going to be changing into my own finery in an hour or so, so you're welcome to join me." A chuckle. "Perhaps I can even con Fennara into giving you some basic dance lessons, too... She's as awful as I am when it comes to seeing that friends are made to have a good time."

Awful. That /can't/ be a good word to use, now can it? Meanwhile..."My hair?" This poor healer -- all work and no play, apparently, because she's entirely to engrossed in work. She hasn't even been to a gather, has never had her hair done. Sad, sad life, that! And no men! How has she survived? We don't know, and we likely don't want to, now do we? "Finery? What're you going to be wearing?" After all, if Lies is willing to /give away/ such a pretty dress, hers must be even more magnificent. "Fennara? Dancing? She'd do that?" Not that Zara knows who Fennara is, but hey!

Liesana chuckles, and digs into the open satchel, pulling out another something. This time a blue and silver something. "Oh this. It's older than the other one, but it's my favourite dress." Actually, with the other one unloaded, it's now her /only/ dress. Which is just the way Lies likes it, lounging comfortably in her slacks. "And I really have to introduce you to Fenn... even if there's no time for a lesson from her. She's a very dear friend of mine, a fellow conspirator in the Lionel Incident, and a recently promoted Journeywoman who specializes in Dance." Returning the harper blue gown to it's home, she grins again. "Want to head over to the Mug or something while we wait? I'd suggest Harper Hall, but Kurt's probably pacing like a penned canine.

Zara manages not to grin by pursing her lips a little tighter, "I think I'd better get out of the healer hall, in that case. Aerrin'll be wanting help and everyone knows /I'm/ not the one to give it. I'll just be in the way. Lemme grab a couple of things and we can go over to the Mug. And I'll put this down in my room so that it doesn't get ruined prematurely." Wink. She actually winks. Zara winked! Everyone rejoice! Riiiight. Moving on. "Really? Perhaps I'll get to meet her at the 'fasting if she isn't around before then," The journeywoman offers brightly as she surveys the infirmary -- and catches Liesana's movement drawing the other dress out of the bag. Eyes widen and her lips part into an actual grin, "And that, my dear harper, fits you wonderfully. We shall be a matching set, no?" Her survey over, she smiles again and moves with her gliding gait for the door.

Liesana chuckles. "My only comment to that, my dear Healer, is that the menfolk had better watch their collective step!" Ah, handfastings, when the unnattached are most keenly on the prowl. Or at least encouraging others to do so.

**Travel Spammishness**

The Flying Mug
The interior of the Flying Mug at first looks innocuous enough, but closer inspection reveals the scars and marks of a much-frequented bar. The tables all match each other, except for the wobbly leg on that one, and the big scar on this one, and the complex patterns of mug-rings on those, and that sleeping Crafter at the one in the corner... The chairs have many of the same problems, except they look much less used. The ceiling of the Flying Mug has been painted to resemble the sky over Ista. The painter must have been incredibly talented too, because he even knew how to make his paintings of dragons look like they were moving. Oh, wait, those are just firelizards. Nevermind. The walls, too, have been painted: small scenes of Pernese life intermingle with portraits and caricatures of famous Mug patrons.
*** WARNING: Please do not leave your objects in the Flying Mug. Pets are allowed, but any personal objects should be taken with you when you leave. Also, if you choose to leave pet your here, please turn off any pet spam. --Thank you, The Mug Staff ***
High in the rafters are seventeen firelizards.
You see Tristan, Tippy, Zephyr, Crimson, Waldo, Busta Blues, and Zadiyo here.
Zara is here.
Obvious exits:
Rose Table Game Room Dining Hall Great Hall
You stand in the rather rambunctious Flying Mug.

Liesana strolls into the Mug, and angles for her usual table in the back. "I think it missed me." she avers, anthropomorphosizing shamelessly. "And I think /I/ missed /it/. The Hold's a good three hours by runner from Smith, a little over one if we gallop it." And knowing Lies and Storm Dancer, they probably do.

Zara isn't actually too far behind Liesana, despite her detour to her room. she had only to drop off the dress, after all. She glides through the door and also makes for the table in the back, grinning as she catches the last of Lies' conversation. "Oh really? Perhaps me and Ke'shara will race you sometime, yes?" They've done it before -- and Liesana won by a mile. Zara just doesn't move enough. Perhaps she shall have to go out on circuit and force herself to ride a little bit more often. You never really know, now do you? A wave is offered the 'tender, but she doesn't order anything as she plops down onto her seat. "What's the call for a lawyer at the Smithall, anyhow?" Zar inquires, ever-so-curiously.

Liesana chuckles. "Well, I could be facetious, and say that Evan and Arakiel keep me in business, but that might be inviting a knife for myself, so I think I'll just stick to the facts, no?" Beckoning over a drudge and ordering a half-carafe of the marvelous 15th Turn Benden, she gets around to answering. "Well, basically my duties are entertainment and instructing the Smith kiddies. But the other half of my specialty should get some serious use. Lots of call for Archivists there."

Zara manages a smile at the comment about Evan and Arakiel. Even this particularly Hall-bound healer can appreciate that humor. The wine is eyed, but Zara dismisses it and gets back to the conversation, "Oh? Archivist?" Nose wrinkles. "I hate the archives -- even the woefully meagre ones at the healer hall. They're so old and musty." Complain, complain, bitch and moan. "You got helpers down there at the Hall, I hope?"

Liesana pours a glass for herself, and another for Zara, and then continues her narrative. "Well, if Archives are properly kept up, they shouldn't smell musty at all. Of course, it's the upkeep that takes the most time, but if one can only get organized processes in place, it makes it much more efficiant, and lessens that chances of information being lost or distorted through human error..." And then she trails off with a grin. "As herbalry is to you, archiving is to me... a passion likely to drive others insane if we talks about it to much! But so far I've yet to see the Smith archives, what with the bustle of moving myself and my household about. And the handfasting, and this be-greened hand! Although I did manage to do a little entertaining the other night... gitar's out of the question, but I managed lap harp well enough to dodge the rotten produce." Although she didn't quite miss the food fight afterwards...

Archives and herbalry. Probably two of the most boring topics on Pern and yet these two manage to get them. The glass is eyed and, without further ado, the healer takes a little sip. Can't be all bad, right? Besides -- one glass never hurt anyone. Actually, it's good for the body! And she would know. She's a healer and she gets to make those kinds of decisions and such. A faint smile spreads across her features, however, "I suppose, I suppose. Perhaps we shall have to get together and archive all the herbs, eh?" After all, most of the information in the healer hall is passed down through classes, rather than documents. Hurray for memorization! A faint smile again flickers across Zar's visage, "Are you going to be playing tonight?"

Liesana twinkles. "Yes... and then we can both threaten errant apprentices with having to copy them... An excellent plan, I think. Although." A sip of wine. "Seriously, it might be of some use... memorization has it's limits, after all." But then she very firmly reins herself away from matters of work. This is a day for play, after all. A grin at Zara's question. "Well, I'll certainly try and take a set at the dancing, but whether I sing or I play depends on you, my good healer. Will my hand stand up to harping?"

Zara has to decide? Oh woe is her! Of course, she's still amused at the fact of having apprentices copying down herbalry archives. And she holds her tongue at the comment of memorization's limits. This poor healer is one of those people that believes that if one tries hard enough, one /will/ memorize what one needs to know. Wow -- sucks to be her mentees, now doesn't it? Eyes flicker to the hand. Slender shoulders shrug and she finally does make a decision -- and a noncommital one at that. "I think it would depend on you, as well. No reason why you can't try -- but if it starts hurting /at all/," Glare, "You're to stop." So there.

Jellem walks with a tired, if happy smile in from the great hall.

Liesana appears to quake back from the fierce look of the healer woman, although it's obvious that she's kidding around. "Aye, ma'am, I hear you loud and clear." she smiles. "I play, it hurts, I stop. Join us, Jellem?" A beckoning to her fellow Harper. "We going to see you at the 'fasting as well?" Another drudge is summoned, and another wine glass aquired, in case he does decide to join them.

Jellem's entrance grants him a fingerwiggle from Zara who's sitting at the back table with Liesana. Good times, neh? She's speaking, of course, of the woman's injured hands. And it's obvious by the knot on her shoulder why she's such an authority. "A'right. 'cause I'm going to be checking on you /too/." So don't even think of deceiving her, right? Jellem is beckoned over by Liesana and the healer offers a shy smile, "You'll be playing at the 'fasting?" She is already presuming. Tsk tsk, Zar!

Jellem shakes his head, "no, ma'am.." he says to the question he assumes is being asked of him as he aproaches

Liesana chews on her lip, puzzling over Jellem's recent attack of formality, and still coming up mystified. She repairs to her wine, deciding that the answers will come in due time. And then Zara's continued mother-hen clucking brings a smile to her lips, and a chuckle. "Ah, Zar... If I ever tried to decieve you, it would /not/ be in an area you're a specialist in..."

Zara cants her head to the side as she toys with her wine glass, still not quite taking another sip from it. Wary? Mebbe. She /was/ carried into her room by a complete stranger last time she got drunk. Let's just hope that doesn't happen again, yes? "Oh? And how /would/ you deceive me, Lieslove?" This last is playful and about the only faceisous thing Zar's said all day. Jellem's given a glance and her eyebrows jump upward, "Oh? Whyever not?" See how easy she is with him? And he's even male and everything!

Jellem shrugs as he takes a seat, "No reason to, ma'am. There are plenty of people to play who are much more talented than I.." he says quietly as he rests his hands on the tabletop

Liesana merely arches an eyebrow at Zara. "Well, clearly if I told you, it would ruin the effect, now, wouldn't it?" And then her brow furrows slightly at Jellem. "I doubt that, Jellem... I'm taking a turn, and even with two good hands, I'm nowhere near your equal. It's not like there's so many people that can play that we can't use another hand..." But then she lets herself trail off, realizing that it's really none of her business if the man doesn't want to play. "But, I missed the introductions. Zara, Jellem. Jellem, Zara."

Zara all but pouts at Liesana's comments. "Well, 'twas worth a try, wasn't it?" And with that she takes another sip of her wine. Not so wary? Or is she just kidding herself with the nonsense about a glass a day is good for you? Zar probably drinks an average of one glass a day -- but averages don't always mean very much, do they? "Oh, I'm sure you're wonderful..." She pauses as introductions are made, "Jellem." Beam. Ain't she kyoooooot? "Besides -- all music is good music." Well, not /all/, but Zar's going to stretch the truth a little here.

"Not all music is good... and I think you highly overestimate my worth.." he adds after a moment to Liesana. Jellem's head turns and looks out over the room, "Been a long time since I've been in here.." he says quietly

Liesana quietly moves the half-carafe of wine out of Zara's range. One glass is good, two is pushing it, especially if she still has to shepherd her through the festivities of the evening. Ah the lengths one will go to, just to see their friends get the occasional bit of fresh air.... An arched eyebrow at Jellem. "Or maybe you're /under/-estimating youself, my friend." And then she drops the subject, appying herself to her wine again. "I'm going to have to dart over to do a few paperwork type matters before the festivities begin, so if I have your leave? I'll be back in time to do your hair, though Zar, so don't try and escape, eh?"

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