"I don't think she's one've my faeries," Lyra whispered back, but that didn't mean she wasn't something else. "We talked 'bout faeries a little, me'n her, but I don't think she's that. 'Sides, when I started wearing this, she could touch it fine," Lyra fished the meteorite necklace out of her cleavage, running her thumb over the iron, such a deeply familiar sensation, like she'd been wearing it all her life and not just a few months, but then her wedding ring felt like that as well. "Now Sameth," she continued, searching the room and finding him easily, laughing heartily with his arm slung around the wolf. "He kinda godly too, doncha think? Bet he could take Apollo down, no sweat— oh," she cut herself off as her roaming gaze fell on Viviane, and her hand tightened in Avery's sleeve. "Oh oh oh you have to meet Viv babe, come come come."
Even as she said it – and sounded like she was hurrying – Lyra still took a moment, just a quick moment to smooth her hand over her hair, to pay attention to the set of her shoulders. Just... no one was as poised or graceful as Viviane, no one in Lyra's whole life, it really made a girl pay attention to the way her own body moved. Once again she found Avery's hand, and pulled him along in her wake, her stomach fizzing like it did sometimes around the other woman. "V!"