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The fire is warm, and the laughter settling, and someone has just pulled out a drum. You notice that your feet are bare as you pad back to the circle of light and life, the soil meeting your soles like an old friend.

Your skirt - perhaps once an underskirt - is flowing freely around you as you spin to the drums. Though your past is foggy, you sense you haven't had the opportunity to hear or dance to drums very often. The natural movement of your body feels as thrilling and new and exciting as it does old and familiar and right.

The bow of the cross lacing of your corset seems to fall undone, but you can't bring yourself to stop and re-tie it. You find yourself grateful for your short sleeves, that naturally fall off of your shoulders and onto your upper arms. The heat of the fire and your body's motion keeps you warm, and you know you've only begun to tire yourself as someone, watching you with mesmerized eyes, begins to play the fiddle in their hands.

You see someone holding a full glass, another sitting without mirth, and many eyes on you beginning to share your joy. As a pan flute joins in to the music, you feel inspired to a burst of action...

Do you:
*[[Grab the cup from the blonde man's hand, and down it before returning to the dance.]]
*[[Pull the sullen one off of their feet and into the dance with you.]]
*[[Let yourself be watched, and feed off of that energy.]]

[[Category: Dark Faeries]]