“Let us move to the dance floor, then. Shall you lead or shall I?”
[The dancefloor is in another thread and is quite dead, let us go there and revive it! Also, I think it’s easier to ignore the fact that we sometimes disappear for hours. It is roleplaying, after all.]
“I’m afraid I can’t dance very well. It would be better for you to lead.”
“It would be my pleasure,” says Krawald, offering Ryan their arm.
[x-posted from the dance floor] Krawald, medium height, with long auburn hair, a white suit and a harlequin mask, leads Ryan, a skinny man with a rose mask onto the dance floor just as the orchestra is starting a lively march. Krawald leads Ryan into a jolly two-step, and though Ryan’s execution is not always perfect, both dancers’ joyous mood is catching.
“You’re really being quite stubborn about this,” the cat points out. “What happened to the ‘life of the party’ you always claim to be?”
“Someone stabbed it, I suppose,” Eglantine returns, sourly.
“So it should be getting up and moving again any moment now?” The cat licks one of her paws delicately. “There is a dreadful lack of fish on my plate, as well. I suggest you either go talk to the guests, or go talk to the chef. Either will do, as long as you’re not sitting here looking doleful.”
“Yes, your ladyship,” Eglantine answers snappishly, but the cat merely ignores the sarcasm and accepts the honorific as her due. “I’m going, I’m going.” They get up and look around for anyone at another table they’d like to talk to.