With Luna and Neville busy in the kitchen, Faelan quietly excused himself, figuring they didn't need him hanging about over their shoulders. Picking up a glass of champagne on the way, he worked his way through the dining room, blending into the wall as much as possible as he examined the array of food on the table. There were plates and napkins, but he wondered how he was supposed to hold his drink and his food at the same time, and still be able to eat. This party stuff was not so easy.
Taking a couple of bite-sized selections, he wandered through people until he found somewhere he could set his drink, which was a small table in the living room. He chewed some sausage thing and wondered what he was supposed to do now.