Brianna, Brian, Open
"Y'know," Brian hedged, "It wouldn't have been so bad if he wore pants. Funny guy. Great musician. A little thirsty." He rubbed his jaw, thinking of all the wine bottles they went through before the Satyr headed out. "I tried to convince him that pants are good. They leave something to the imagination. They build the suspense. He wasn't buying it." A spark of humor made his eyes twinkle. "On second thought, what am I telling you? You wanna lock brains so you can see for yourself?"