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The Duchess chuckled with quiet amusement as the Lord General mused on Aeldari and Slaaneshi practices. All her guests had to process the strange confluence of guests in their own way, so she simply nodded to him encouragingly. "I hope you find many new allies tonight, General."

Turning then to Moon Drop, she tilted her head, looking ever so slightly coy about the topic. "Why, whatever do you mean? Instructions? I'm fairly certain that coming tonight was just your hearts desire. How you manifested it, well. I'm certain it's none of my business." She gave the shade a wink, and glanced toward the rose herself. It was beginning to look a little wilted, and the snow was falling a little more thickly all around the dance floor. But of course, not on the dance floor, nor on the buffet tables or the precise area of the party. That still held out its atmospheric warmth, a protective bubble for the attendees.

Malachite giggled as the dog returned, finding Ollie’s giddy to be extremely contagious.
“An amazing job indeed! You’re such a good boy.” He praised the doggy, giving Ollie lots of scritches behind the ears.

“Man.. maybe I should get a dog after I go back home” he thought out loud. None of the dogs there talked though, except for the ones in movies.

As the dog passed by, Ami’s attention turned to the creature, a curious look noticeable even beneath her mask. A warm smile followed as she took in its excitement and the way others reacted to it.

She bent just enough to pet it gently when given the chance, then watched as it ran after the stick with boundless enthusiasm. A small giggle bubbled up as it returned with the prize clenched in its jaws, looking utterly proud. She brought her hands together and clapped softly a couple of times for Ollie.

"Yes, Rosebud!" Chiara beamed. "She was my favorite! Seeing Ollie bolt after the stick, she clapped her hands. "WOW,Mr Pupper!! You're so fast! Almost as if you're flying!" When Tairloth knelt she still had to look up, but didn't seem to mind the effort. "Pie....myth", she repeated. "What a nice name! What does it mean? I can call him Pie-pie?" She tickled the tiny dragon's head again. "Pie-pie, you can fly too.... why don't you and Mr Pupper race to see who is the fastest?"

Ollie relinquished the stick and practically melted into paroxysms of delight, his front legs going so wobbly that he fell onto his front flank and rolled over, waving his legs in the air to show his belly. If belly rubs happened, that would of course just be a bonus.

The approaching sound of hooves caught Iyan's ears. He kept his attention forward, watching the group flocking around the duchess, until the approaching figure drew close to him. Then addressed him.
Turning his dark head, Iyan found himself in the company of a satyr. His dark eyes drifte dup and down, taking in her appearance just as she had done him. "Old face." He answered in jest. "Newly arrived, though, yes." As his lips pulled into a smile, a small dimple appeared in his left cheek, only just visible beneath his mask.

"I understand these occasions are meant to be attended under the guise of anonymity, so I suppose I should refrain from offering my name. I am trying to decide if I should play by the rules or no. For now, perhaps I shall simply be 'Old Face'." His smile widened as he bent slightly into a shallow bow. "And you? Do you frequent such events? You've not come to inform me that I have violated some rule by drinking immediately, have you?"

After a few seconds thought, Tairloth shrugged sheepishly "Honestly, it's been so long since I gave them the name that I kinda forgot where I got it from."

Trilling happily at the additional head scratches, Piemyth looked at Chiara curiously at the mention of a race; sure they were a fast flyer, at least by pseudodragon standards, but would it be enough to make up for Ollie's much longer stride?

Oh, Moon Drop understood the heart's desire very well. It was her own stubbornness and vindictiveness that kept her soul tethered to this realm and not passing on in the first place. So she accepted that answer for what it was with a slight nod of her head.

"Very well. I must admit that this is my first social event as a guest to enjoy myself. I must thank you for the gracious invite, Duchess."

Malachite perked up a bit at Chiara's suggestion, "oooh, a race between the dragon and the doggy? That sounds fun."

He then kneeled down next to Ollie and whispered, "hey- if you win the race I'll get you more sticks." unashamedly rigging the race!

"Yay!" Chiara clapped excitedly and caressed Piemyth's head, then kissed the tip of Ollie's nose. "Ready, Pie-Pie and Mr. Pupper? On my three! One.... two...." She looked at her mother, and Cris smiled with her eyes, in silent approval. "... THREE! Go go go go GO!!"

An amused chuckle was his immediate response, and she liked to think she looked particularly fetching as she did it, dropping into another surprisingly well-executed curtsy, the curls of her hair bouncing with the motion. "Old Face it is, then. I guess you can just call me Imp." She never understood the need for fake names - what was the point? Hiding your identity could happen all you wanted (it was, after all, her main talent), but if you couldn't reap the benefits of what you did, it was wasted time. Imp would work. If she ever heard from anyone here again, at the very least, they'd be able to tell it's her.

That was, fun fact, why she had so many people desperate to kill her. "I arrived just a bit ago, as well," Imp admitted, her gaze drifting back to the dance floor, "It's a... strange place..." Nothing more than an idle observation, really.

As she raised back up, another soft laugh chimed from her throat, this one sounding less genuine, and more like a little bell. It was the most charming one she had. "Oh, Gods, if there's a rule against drinking right away, we're both in trouble." Imp quipped, gesturing with her head towards the drinks. "I was told by a rather earnest-looking, um," What was Onzi? No hooves, pointy ears? "Fellow," Close enough! "That I must try the cider, and I fully intend to." Once more turning to the drinks, she gave another scrutinizing glance, trying to decide by sight alone if the cider was here, or no. She was always so very, very picky, and had a talent for picking things she'd end up hating.

"I'm really not made for parties like these... I really don't even know how I got an invitation in the first place..." She trailed off, deciding to forgo her search in favor of leaning her hip against the table in a manner she hoped looked casual, "You seem like you belong here, though. I don't know, you feel very..." Regal wasn't the word, because he felt like Thickett's favorite annoying princeling - Sorry, new King! "...Very at home." She finished lamely, but was sure her smile made up for it.

As soon as they heard "Three!", Piemyth took off as quickly as they could in the direction Chiara was pointing. Not knowing where the finish line was, they figured they'd just keep flying until someone told them to stop.

Unbeknownst to them, Tairloth was wondering the same. "Where are they racing to?" she asked.

"Have you had other social events where the point was to not enjoy yourself?" the Duchess asked Moon Drop, seeming to be quite earnest about the question. Perhaps this was something that fae did to one another on occasion. Or maybe it wasn't just the fae that did it, just them who admitted to it. "Does it happen often?"

Ollie scrambled back to his feet and made to go running... but the wreath around his neck had fallen forward and was partially covering his eyes, so he first had to shake himself off vigorously until the necklace of pine boughs settled back into its rightful place around his beautiful golden neck. And then he charged after Piemyth. Not so much because he was aware that they were racing, but just because soneone was running real fast and he wanted to be involved.

(cheers, Wren! I wish you much luck!)