Fable - Ask Cultures of Elbion (College)

Despite not being from Alliria, Nilamani had found themself helping out at their booth that morning. This was because Thadd who was and whose house had made a sizeable contribution of goods to the booth, had a strong tendency to accidentally break things. That and his roommates complete inability to organize meant they had spent their morning acting as a go between for the servant who had arrived from house Orabela and the other students setting up the booth.

Thadd's first action had been to accidentally snapped a banister pole in half. He was then promptly banished to wander the festivities as gently as possible, as far away as possible for the time being.
House Orabela despite producing such a charming dunce was full of quite capable enchanters and had their hands in the cocoa trade. They had sent a great number of small enchanted boxes each embossed with the house crest, containing a sample of truffles. They were enchanted to play a short melody when one opened the lid. They were awfully extravagant little trinkets to be handing out for such an event. Then again seeing as the boxes themselves were of a decent quality, Nilamani supposed it was a clever bit of marketing.

Having sorted that out they were now 'walking' the stalls as a bit of a break. That and they considered it might be a good idea to just make sure the lunk head wasn't breaking anyone else's booth either.
They had chosen to attend in their true form today, these occasions had been building their confidence a bit in doing so. The art gala had been rather pleasant all things considered.
They did their best to be mindful not to let their tail trail into anyone's way or to knock into any of the stalls. It was certainly testing their grace, moving on lands wasn't entirely natural even if Nilamani's variety of Nerevyn was more capable than most at it. They had learned it with great effort.
So despite their own attempts to elegantly move through the growing crowd, they still floundered a bit. They kept getting bumped into, or their tail trod on by a stray foot.
Folks were indeed too preoccupied with the many offerings to look down after all.
Thus their usual easy going personality was clouded despite the bright sunshine.

With a small determined frown their eyes scanned for a treat which might alleviate their sour mood.

Lucien Valtiere did not belong here.

That much was evident in every precise step he took and in the glacial poise of his posture. He wore a doublet of storm-silver damask, trimmed with thread-of-pearl embroidery and buttons that winked like black diamonds. A cloak of charcoal velvet fanned behind him, clasped at the shoulder with a brooch shaped like the seal of House Valtiere, a falcon entwined with vines. His hair, a striking shade of moonlit platinum, had been styled back in Dalriadan fashion.

Lucien did not so much walk as glide, chin high, eyes cool and perpetually unimpressed.

His nostrils flared ever so slightly as the mingling scents of spiced fish, roasting boar, and something aggressively fried assaulted him. He resisted the urge to reach for the monogrammed handkerchief tucked into his sleeve. Instead, he offered only a tight grimace.

“Gods preserve me,” he muttered under his breath.

He was here, of course, under duress. His family had insisted. Something about goodwill between cultures. Merchant diplomacy. “Alliria’s financiers are almost tolerable,” his mother had said. “Smile if you must. And don’t say anything dreadful about their fish.”

Lucien had no intention of smiling.

As he swept past a particularly loud troupe of Bhathairkian students singing some guttural tavern song, his heel abruptly caught on something soft….firm, sinewed, and unmistakably alive. A tail. He stepped directly onto it, shifted, and looked down in annoyance.

His gaze followed the appendage to its source, a striking, aquatic-looking person (Nilamani ). He didn’t move. Didn’t offer even the ghost of an apology.

Instead, he lifted a brow and offered coolly, voice smooth as chilled wine, "This is a promenade, not a swamp. Mind that tail."

Uldyr