Seating Area - 11:30pm - Rose & Artair
Without warning, quite suddenly a black cat with a white spot on his chest, spruced up like a skeleton hopped into Rose's lap and hid under the table. "Shhh," Artair insisted softly with a refined Scots brogue, "You don't see me. I'm not here." The fur along his spine was raised and his tail was puffed out. His ears were folded back and his eyes were wide, clearly on high alert.
And then there were two mischievous voices that followed - two small pixies who usually worked the midway in larger forms, both dressed up as butterflies but flitting around in almost a dance of circles. "Where did he go! It's my turn to pull his tail!"
"Oh, it is not! It's mine! You pulled his tail last time."
Artair shuddered. The pixies went on still arguing about whose turn it was but after a moment, he couldn't hear them anymore. He peeked up over the edge of the table, ears on high alert, "Have they gone...?" When he was a little more certain, he carefully moved from the healer's lap to the table top, keeping low to the surface. "I hate pixies when I can't eat them..."