[D0, Mid-Evening] The Moon & Her Shadow

[Illiam'iira]

Illiam'iira Synisilme stands in a corner of the Inn's front room, her back pressed into the wall as she waits for her companion. Every passing minute she frets more and more that perhaps he's gone off and got himself in trouble or -- or worse. C'mon, c'mon, think of something else... with a (relative) moment to herself the situation begins to sink in. She messed up somehow. Their destination was the Feywild, yet they wound up here, and the air hurts, there's no sky, and there's a place where people just casually commit suicide... the architecture reminds her of her father's home... it's a lot to take in. And what if they can't go back? She can't miss Tian's first few years like she did with Ethe... Illi hugs her bag tightly to her chest with one arm as she tries to keep her lap harp from slipping with the other. And how will she explain this to...

She really can't wait to see Quev.

At least the people are interesting. So many kinds of people. It's a little bit like if Skullport and Waterdeep were smashed together with the planes. Scary and interesting and weird and maybe fun (she hasn't decided yet). Illi wipes some tears from her eyes. Stupid air hurts everything. It feels like she's got something in her eye but it's just... whatever this place is. Now she's blinking back tears and moping. Ugh.

Illi caaaarefully sets down her harp, scooting it with her foot behind her legs so she has a free hand to cradle her brooch. Her eyes follow the curves of its embellishments: a crescent moon, flower petals, butterfly wings, stars. Familiar fantasies she clings to, or maybe that's just what she shows the world -- why did the brooch take this form? Its bell gently rings with the tiniest tilt of her wrist. The cover opens, transparent and glimmering, to share one of its many secrets. Its mirror doesn't lie, and Illiam feels heavy as a face she doesn't recognize stares back at her with shining white eyes. Everything feels heavy and real as she snaps the cover back down and drops the brooch so it hangs from its chain. Twisting and turning. Way to rub salt in the wound, idiot.

Quev, you dumbass, where are you! I need a hug!

As she stews in her emotions Illiam remembers something. Quickly she pulls out a pink satin ribbon from her right pocket and reads the words embroidered across its length. Her body relaxes, and she smiles a little before bundling it back together and shoving it back where it belongs.

[Whisper]

One of the tavern doors open and a light breeze followed a pale man through. An elven hound walked silently at his side as he moved through the room and found a table near the corner. Those already sitting there looked at the stranger with confusion when he joined them, but continued their meals without comment. He barely looked at them, paying more attention to the rest of the inn.

[Illiam'iira]

One of the tavern doors open and a light breeze followed a pale man through. An elven hound walked silently at his side as he moved through the room and found a table near the corner. Those already sitting there looked at the stranger with confusion when he joined them, but continued their meals without comment. He barely looked at them, paying more attention to the rest of the inn.

The drow's gaze pauses only briefly on the man (for a moment her eyes grow wide before she realizes he's not also drow), lingering instead on the hound -- very shyly she gives Hush a wave, whispering a tiny greeting in Sylvan.

[Whisper]

Both the cooshee and the man turned towards her voice. He waved back. Hush moved closer to study her.

[Illiam'iira]

Both the cooshee and the man turned towards her voice. He waved back. Hush moved closer to study her.

Illi offers her free hand for Hush to sniff. "Hello, friend," She coos sweetly. The sparkles on her skin begin to shine brighter. "And what's your name?"

[Whisper]

The dog took a sniff and glanced back to his companion.

"Hush. His name is Hush." Whisper answered. As the others at his table finished their meals and left, he motioned to the vacant seats. "Sit, if you'd like."

[Illiam'iira]

The dog took a sniff and glanced back to his companion.

"Hush. His name is Hush." Whisper answered. As the others at his table finished their meals and left, he motioned to the vacant seats. "Sit, if you'd like."

That gets a small smile as her heart warms. She feels at peace the brief moment between Hush looking to Whisper and the man then speaking.

"Oh, uhm..." Illi picks up her harp and does her best impression of someone not spilling everything they own on the floor as she moves to take the seat across from Whisper. "Thank you kindly," She mumbles shyly, her harp and sword set upon the table in front of her and her bag in her lap. "My name is Illi, Hush," She again coos to the hound, "And who's your friend?" The drow giggles a little as she looks to Whisper expectantly.

[Whisper]

"Whisper." he answered. "Are you alright? You look like you're waiting for something."

[Illiam'iira]

"Whisper." he answered. "Are you alright? You look like you're waiting for something."

"My friend. He's supposed to meet me here, but knowing him, he's run into trouble..." She gives as good a smile as she can manage. "I'm as well as I can be, given the circumstances. Thank you for asking. Do you two hunt?" Illi again offers her hand to Hush, hoping she can pet him.

[Whisper]

"We are." he nodded. "What circumstances?"