Larowyn, Tika, Sanders Jr Larowyn had become somewhat addicted to the flashing lights, floating colors, and strange candy of the Cat Walk. Perhaps it was a strange place for a fairy of the Elven Royal Court to be, but she was like many of her race, child-like, easily distracted and drawn to things that caught her attention. So the Cat Walk had drawn her attention and she had come to enjoy the feeling of men watching her.
The stripping had been something that she had little problem with, she was used to wearing nearly nothing. Dressing was a mortal convention. Most fae understood nakedness as a natural state. Even after all the years that she had lived, it still seemed to be the better way to be, naked. Now she was making money off of her nakedness, which was something she barely understood at all. So long as she had flowers and shelter, then she was more than happy to go along with whatever was done with the money. She had no need to buy what she wanted, it was usually bought for her and she performed because performing was fun. It was what Sparkle had helped her to learn to do.
She had learned a few faces, names, good tippers, people that she paid special attention to and who specifically asked for her time after time. One was a young man named Sanders, but she knew there was something important about that name. After all, there was someone really important who had the same name as him, but wasn't him. The concept had confused her at first. Someone had explained that it was a fae who was named after another fae, or a fae named after a flower, they weren't the same thing, but they were called the same thing. She had nodded in understanding and proceeded to ignore the whole thing.
Sanders was there and asking for her, so she went to sit with him. He seemed to like when she wore silver, just thin bands of silver along her body to hide her modesty (she didn't really have any, but the phrase had been used often enough for her to mimic the exact intonation.) Someone else was upon stage and she was taking her slow time giving Sanders a lap dance, which he seemed to be enjoying. They didn't talk during her actions, he didn't pay her to talk, just to make him feel good. He could have had much different pleasures if he went to Bella Morte, he didn't really like dealing with his Father's cronies or his sister's attitude. Both had started to wear thin for him. What he wouldn't give to be able to break his damn sister's neck.
As she moved her body down his chest, he took in a breath of her scent. Fae, it made him hungry. That was part of the reason he always asked for her. Her nearness drove him to feed almost immediately after the fact. Eventually, he'd take this particular pretty and enticing little fae and drain her to the last drop of blood. That would assuage him, but only for a short while. A very short while. He drew long fingers through her wealth of black hair and concentrated on her scent and the feelings that she evoked.