Seda sat, with knees drawn up tightly to her chest, her back to the flickering fire and more importantly the storyteller nearby who was in the midst of constructing his tale. Her head was tilted to the side, trying to better hear the story being told though she tried her best to be discreet about her interest. One arm lay wrapped around her legs while the other idly tossed an apple through the air. There were better things to eat, the scent of the air told her that much, but the elf has little appetite for the rich foods floating all around her.
She wondered why she had come out to join the feast tonight but couldn’t find a reason. It was a social event to be sure and Seda wasn’t feeling all that social, hadn’t been for a long time, and yet she hadn’t been able to resist when her feet had dragged her here with a mind of their own. Half lidded eyes, fiercely alert beneath her lashes, watched as people danced around her. Their faces were alight with happiness that seemed foreign; their laughter was a song altogether more powerful than anything the fiddlers could produce.
The whole of it made her chest ache but she couldn’t find it in her to stand and leave. So she remained where she was, body drawn in tight and listened.