Victus remains in the background as Dawn greets the newly arrived to the hunting party. He must've been here early. The Thraxian gives Niccolo a brisk sort of nod in acknowledgement, and a grunt towards Edain, but otherwise remains where he is. Joscelin receives only a glance. He's dressed for a hunt; a practical ensemble in earthen colours, the kind that can take to being dirty and wet and snagged against underbrush without being shred to pieces. Stylish it is not, despite this being as much a court affair as a hunt. At his hip he's got his trusty sword.

The finishing touches have been put on the tent city, the last log laid on the central bonfire structure, and a servant approaches to whisper in Dawn's ear. She flashes a grin at those who'd congregated near her and gestures-- follow her. Then it's to the central clearing, where the smell of spit-roased meat already filled the air, and the sound of casks being struck open rings out loud over the crowd noise.

The party-- er, camping, it is begun.

Or it will be, once Dawn welcomes the growing crowds. There's a small platform raised that she ascends. There, she turns to survey those who've assembled. To her right, another servant waits with a lighted torch. Grayson's Voice draws in a breath and begins to speak, projecting out with the volume of someone accustomed to addressing huge throngs of people. "Welcome to the wilds!" she says, gesturing at the trees of the Gray Forest that rise beside the camp. "Tomorrow there will be hunting, and games. But tonight we all come together to feast in unity, to raise our glasses and tankards together to the Compact, to Arx, and to ourselves! Those of you who've not yet secured a bedroll in a tent, please do speak with your High Lord, Voice or heir to get your sleeping assignment!"

Edain's eyes get big for a moment, "I was supposed to organizing sleeping arrangments for my people..." He clears his throat, "Um.. excuse me a moment..." And he turns and starts digging around in his saddle backs hoping to find some parchment and something to write with.

Dagon steps up beside Victus and offers his cousin a slap on the shoulder. "Maybe next time we should try to get a bunch of people out on ships to spend a few nights on the open water, eh? Might do a few of them some good." He glances around, offering a friendly nod to Edain, then leans in and murmurs something in Victus' ear. Nodding, he goes quiet to listen to Dawn's speech. He grunts. "I'll be around, cousin, I need to go and run my mouth a bit. We should talk later on."

"I don't hunt often, no," Niccolo admits to Edain. "At least prey that isn't human. I did hunt a lot of human prey back in the Lyceum," he offers with a lift of his shoulders. "Not quite the same thing. Most of those kills were rather close and personal," he shares. Spotting Victus, he inclines his head to the Thraxian in greeting. When Dawn begins speaking, Niccolo turns his attention to her.

As if on cue, Sophie is passing Edain a handsome leather-bound journal and some graphite with which to write, provided from her own stash. "Here," she smiles at him.


"Mercy Sophie!" Joscelin calls out, her voice not loud but carrying well enough. "I have something I think you might like to keep on hand for ... emergencies."

Despite his penchant for vanity, it seems that Valkieri does have clothing appropriate for the outdoors; while the finery he wears still has the crisp, tailored appearance of the fashions he's often seen in, the material is a bit hardier, and silk less present among the outfit. He looks rather more comfortable coming into camp astride his sizable blood bay stallion than he often does on his feet in the city. His gaze scans the crowd gathering in the clearing, lips thinning, but his expression eases a bit when Dawn ascends the platform and greets the crowd.

Victus looks towards Dagon when his cousin approaches him. His response to the whisper is a non verbal one, a brusque gesture that translates into an affirmative. He leaves the other Thraxian to drift on afterwards. The whole time his eyes were on Dawn as the Grayson bastard laid out the itinerary of the hunt.

The nice thing about dressing like a gods-forsaken pirate all the time is, it's actually perfect clothing to go roughing it in. The pavilions of tents outside the city draws none other than the likes of Salazar Argento here. The pirate prince is seen sauntering his way down with a small wagonload especially prepared for this situation; on the back, a tent, bedding, and all the things necessary to play a violent local game from the Lycene south, emanating around a goatskin-wrapped ball thrown between goalposts (also, incidentally, brought) on a field. Having parked at the fringe of the pavilion, the Argento party sets up its own little tents; their blue and silver banners fly proudly in the air.

Salazar Argento, not a man to be deterred by such petty things as 'logistics' or 'planning', has left his party with a few instructions, before cutting through the pavilions to head to the central clearing. Dressed in his usual casual splendor - it appears he's slowly starting to add bits and pieces of jewelry to his apparel that are as idiosyncratic as they are eye-catching - the young man stakes out a place by a tent and folds his arms over his chest, scanning the crowds for someone he recognizes. It's here when the smell of food entices his sense of scent, and he heads over to the spits, to fill a plate of roast boar, paired with a large tankard of beer. So armed, the pirate prince finds himself meandering towards the direction of Dawn's pulpit.

Dawn extends her arm, pointing at the smaller fires over which the roasts are being turned. "Eat as much as you'd like, drink as much as you can tolerate, and try not to wander off into the forest without a guard." Those useful soldiers sorts are also indicated via pointing, where they're stationed all around the huge field-- men and women who alternate Velenosa livery with that of Grayson. "The Grand Duchess will be joining us later and is certain to make an entrance. Until then, I command you all to enjoy yourselves and deem this an evening -free of titles-." Here, her grin flashes out again. "We're roughing it, after all."
    And on that note, the Lady takes the torch from the servant and steps down from the platform. She crosses to the tall-as-two-men bonfire, built up with brush and actual logs, and thrusts the fire into the dry stuff.
    It catches a few seconds later, and licking flames begin to spread. Glamping is a go!

Pietro lopes among the crowd, greeting people he knows and never straying particularly far from his brother. Still, he makes sure to have circled back to Valkieri's horse when he pipes, "Are you going to be able to sleep on the ground, do you think?" He rocks back on his heels, and laughs in delight. "Without your title?"


"This is most decidedly wonderful." The blonde Grayson Princess announces to well everyone. Natalia's golden curls are allowd to fall down her back and play a bronzed shading in passing fire lights. It's a molten display of shadows and lights while she glides through the forest. A bright smile is given to each person that she sees in warmth. Dawn is flashed a brighter, megawatt, smile that is given to her family allow. A softly mouthed, "Hello" is given to the Voice of Grayson. However, there is just too much to be seen and too many to be seen by.

Those bright blue eyes of Natalia's are positively lit up with some wicked light. She inclines her head towards the other nobles that are here. Although, Dagon gets a sigh from her, but she doesn't approach him. She will instead move to meet Dawn when she comes off the stage. Her eyes slide to Salazar. "My pirate prince..." Nevermind he isn't really either of those things.

That is Sophie's name being called. It sounds ominous. That is Joscelin calling out Sophie's name, which is why it sounds ominous. "Dare I ask, Goodwoman Joscelin?" Her expression is somewhere between amused and apprehensive. More so when she is beckoned yonder.
    When Dawn proclaims it to be an evening absent of titles, Sophie returns her attention to her Highlord cousin, managing to keep her expression calm despite what she is sure is a flurry of panic in Edain, he who clings to the safety of formality. Gently, she rests her palm against his back for moral support.

Valkieri opens his mouth, then snaps it shut, glaring down at Pietro. He at least has the satisfaction of height. "You'll be lucky if I don't let Tempest eat you," he tells him. He mutters something else to him in a lower voice, more difficult to catch.

Edain accepts the small personal journal and piece of graphite from Sophie and mouths the words, 'thank you.' and it's just about now that he realizes that he has an owl on his arm. He lifts his hand and tells Roland, "Go land over there somewhere." And so Roland flies to perch on a high tentpole so he can seem imperious. Edain then opens up his little journal and starts to scribble, but tries to carry on his conversation with Niccolo as he does, "Buy hunting humans you mean hunting the Shav's that threatened Lenosia right?" a beat, "You don't like. capture people and set them free to hunt them down? That sounds like a lot of frustrating and improbable logistics to deal with."

"Aw, he likes me," Pietro protests this with the flash of a ready grin. "Temperance is a perfectly well behaved animal and I horses love me." He rocks forward onto his toes, swaying up towards Valkieri to beam at him and murmur something more quietly.

"I suppose the logistics do leave a lot to be desired," Niccolo replies to Edain, rubbing his chin, but then allows a touch of a grin to show at the Valardin High Lord, adding a wave of his had. "I mean Hunting Shavs yes," he confirms. "I've gone hunting twice sin I've been on Arx. One that time you hosted a hunt. And then more recently with my ward," he shares. "We hunted not far from here, actually."

Joscelin grins at the Mercy and gives her a wink, moving back towards the people and the food after giving Sophie some ... things to talk about.

"The logistics being your primary concern?" Comes Victus' rough voice from the sidelines, directed at Edain. He scratches at the thick of his beard, then makes a brusque gesture towards the lavish state of the hunting party. A small town of tents, and an army of servants to ensure the nobility and other guests have what they need. He blows out a quiet snort, and says: "Think this is more effort than snatching up a few people to kill for sport. Human life is fucking cheap."

"Hm?" Salazar lifts both brows up, as he finds himself cornered by a rather catty, blonde-haloed Grayson princess. Behind him, the stage, to the left and right, a throng of peasants here to worship the Grayson Voice - Dawn has many fans among the little peoples - and in his hands, a plate of roast boar garnished with parsley and a full stein of beer. Taken so by surprise, the dark-haired Stormborn scion takes a long swallow of his beer and sets it on the stage, before taking a bite of the meat. "Princesa," he murmurs in that rolling Lycene accent of his, "How do you do?" Plate held like a Frisbee in one hand, he dips down into a bow, looking like an out of place servant carrying food to a social better.

Dawn backs away from the huge bonfire as it goes up all a-crackle. Macdon wiggles free of the crowd and bounds to meet her and she lets her hand rest atop his shaggy head as Natalia's given a smile to match the one offered her. "Cousin," she greets as she pets the deerhound (and gets dog hair all over her trousers from where he's leaning against her leg), "it's good to see you out and about!" There's a lot of that sentiment to be shared around, in fact: as familiar faces are spied in the crowd, she lifts her non-patting hand to wave oh so informally at a number of people. Valkieri, Niccolo, Sophie and Dagon, along with those clustered around them, are cheerfully marked out for that at a distance hello.

Edain takes the offered journal and graphite from Sophie, and Sophie takes the offered //something// from Joscelin, quirking a smile at whatever the jeweler whispered in the healer's ear. For the nonce, she doesn't follow, and instead serves as buffer for her dear cousin Edain.

Natalia sweeps a hand dismissively at Salazar. "We are without titles for the evening it seems. I always do well, how about yourself?" Her blue eyes flash with some humor before she lookst towards Dawn. "It is wonderful to be seen, is it not? I do believe your event is going to be a most glorious one." She offers a smile again and those damned air kisses she does. "I will leave you to mingle though. I just wished to make sure I saw you." She will pat Macdon if he allows. Of course, then she'll try to shake the dog fur off her hand.

She also offers an amiable smile and polite nod to Niccolo, who appears to be conversing with her cousin.

Tempest is actually /not/ particularly well-behaved, but he is currently focused enough under Valkieri's firm hand. "That is not his name," Valkieri snaps at Pietro for the thounsandth time in their lifetimes. He snorts at whatever Pietro murmurs back to him, but his gaze lifts to catch Dawn's wave, and his mouth twitches in the barest of smiles before it disappears again. He sighs, lifting a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "I need a drink," he says, finally dismounting from his steed to drop onto the ground next to PIetro.

Edain nods to Niccolo and says, "Well hopefully before the excursion is finished you will let me taking you hawking. Prince Dagon, has a might fine raptor I have been looking forward to seeing him fly, and I am having some birds brought from our Mews so we can loan birds to people that need to." He turns then to Sophie and says, "Thank you for keeping an eye on me but I promise it is fine if you wish to go and mingle..."

"I supose depending on the location one can find human life with more value than in other places," Niccolo concedes to Victus with a dip of his head. Seeing Dawn's greeting, the duke smiles and tilts his head in her direction. Then catching Natalia's smile, he returns it with a faint one of his own. Edain's invitation has him lifting his his head and then offering a deep incline of it. "I'd be honored, Your Grace," he offers to the man. "They're majestic creatures, birds of prey. I'm partian to the falcons."

"We will get you a drink," Pietro says. He resists the temptation to vigorously wave back at Dawn as though that was addressed to him, mostly because he might risk a pretty mean elbow if he does it, and slaps Valkieri readily on the back as he starts moving forward. He begins forging through the crowd, high energy in his swaggering lope. "That venison smells delicious. It's been awhile since we've been on a hunt together. Natalia!" As he leads Valkieri through the crowd he draws nearer to several of the other people here, and apparently has no problem following Dawn's instructions to discard formality WITH A WILL. "I hope you received that olive oil and found some use for it! The lady probably has no memory of what I'm talking about."

Spotting Natalia, as well as Dawn's wave, Dagon sighs to himself and heads over to the two and any who are near them. "Greetings." He says to the two of them, nodding pleasantly. "I'm glad to see that you arrived well enough, shall I ensure that there are no creepy or crawly things about? Or do you have some other task for me to go and carry out?" He smiles, though it doesn't quite touch his eyes. Turning slightly towards Dawn, he says, "A pleasant little outing you and the Archduchess have put together. I hope that it manages to go well, Dawn."

Dawn's smile goes decidedly crooked as she tells Natalia, "That depends on if the crowds are primed to cheer, or throw things at you." Then her pretty pretty princess smile is adopted again as she moves on to waving to the smallfolk clumped behind Salazar. These seem the cheering sort, thankfully. Happiness all around! Including from Macdon, who is inclined to give the princess' hand a lick before he lopes after his mistress. "Thank you, Dagon!" the Lady says to Thrax's heir. A grin is threatening. "I know you've some concerns as to security but there's an army between us and Gray Forest, I promise. If there are bandits within ten leagues of all of this fuss, I'd be surprised."


Natalia tips her head at Dagon when he arrives over by her. There is a sort of perplexed expression upon her blue eyes, but it is gone in a flutter of lashes the next second. It may have just been a passing of the light or a shadow tossed from the fires. Those long lashes stay lowered as she extends a hand to touch Dagon's wrist lightly. Okay, so it was totally the hand that Macdon licked and she might also be wiping her fingers off delicately. The blonde princess moves over a bit towards the man, as Dawn scampers off to meet and greet. "There are so many tasks that could be asked for. Sadly, I cannot ask you to make me a shelter out of leaves and bark. It would have been delightful to see." Her lips come over to attempt that air kiss by his cheek. If one is really perceptive, her lips might be moving in a whispered comment to the Thraxian heir.


Victus scratches his cheek, his blunt features looking dubious as Niccolo speaks. "There are locations men don't worship the proper Gods." Is he looking at Viktarkim when he says it? Yes. A blunt look of dislike. "There are places gold ain't worth shit. And yeah, there are times and places human life is held in such high fucking esteem using a couple for target practice would be a tricky proposition. Not most places, though. Not in Arx, not in Lenosia, certainly not on the Isles." His eyes leave the prodigal to stalk in the direction of the trees instead.

"Pietro--" Valkieri allows Pietro to lead him through the crowd /reluctantly/, one hand on the reins of his stallion that he hasn't passed off to a servant yet. He stands a little behind him as Pietro chatters at Natalia. "Well why wouldn't she remember /olive oil/," he drawls sarcastically.

"No titles," Salazar echoes, before turning to look the way Natalia looks, at Dawn. He starts to dip into a bow; ha! A pirate bound by manners and forced to bend the knee is no pirate at all. But perhaps it's true: Salazar is simply a fellow who wears a pirate's material possessions - gold loop earring, cutlass and silk chemise - but none of their mannerisms. See: spitting phlegm on the ground, spitting into a hand and then shaking with it, nose-picking, raucous cursing. "My lady Grayson," he offers with a smile, before peering at Dagon. It's the first time he's come this close to the Thraxian crown prince, and he offers a barely noticeable shift of his head - a nod? - and then he addresses Dawn instead. "Quite a spectacle we have here. Do you think, my Lady of the Rosy Dawn, that perhaps we could clear a pitch to play a game of bashball?" He says this, flicking his golden gaze to Dagon nearby - is that a challenge? And what exactly is bashball? It sounds horribly violent and uncouth.

"I still do, which means my vigilance won't die down." Dagon comments to Dawn, turning to face Natalia as the other woman goes and chats with others. "There's still time, but it might not meet your high standards." He leans towards her, murmuring something to her, not even bothering to hide the fact that he's doing so. Once he's done, he leans back and gestures. "Alright, shall we go and speak to some others or do you have other tasks in mind?"

"It was good Granato olive oil, and she did ask me for it," Pietro defends himself with an easy laugh. He collects a couple of the wooden mugs of ale from one of the passing servants who's got them on a tray from one of the casks, and he hands one to Valkieri, thereby occupying one of his liege's hands with booze and the other with a horse and thereby protecting himself from future-- no.

"That is very true," Niccolo agrees with Victus, studying the man. He follows his glance to Viktarkim, but quickly lets his gaze return to the Thraxian. A faint smile touches the duke's lips as he watches the other man stalk over toward the trees. His attention turns to those around him, with curiosity and his hands come to clasp behind his back.

It takes Sophie a moment to realize that some of the hunting conversation carrying on around her involved the hunting of /people/. That prompts a mild frown, but the Mercy of Lagoma says nothing. Instead, she simply smiles fondly at Edain, who seems inclined to have her mingle. "I shall see about setting up shop." Which would be what's she brought for the healers' tent. Then, to Niccolo and Victus, she politely inclined her head. "If gentlemen will excuse me, I shall socialize later."

"Having seen you with weapon in hand," Dawn tells Dagon, "I feel safer for your vigilance. But don't forget to enjoy yourself as well." There: her grin appears in all of its glory. Then she turns, trading amusement for curiousity when Salazar makes his request. "What in the world is bashball? That sounds like an excuse to possibly harm your fellow campers, sir. And I believe I specified tonight was for -unity-." Which isn't a no, not exactly, given that the good humour is creeping back in again. "Describe me the rules, promise it won't end in riot or war, and I'll agree to it."

Mason has been around, but he also hasn't been all that talkative. He's been meandering around the Grayson pavillion, fidding with his sketchbook that he tends to carry on him at all times, for the random thought that needs to be written down, or something needs to be quickly sketched out. For the moment, he's positioned off to the side, on a decent sized rock, letting his pen write. Every now and again, he views the crowd, pauses, then starts to write again.


That moment when a man says the right thing? That is the moment happening to Natalia. Whatevver Dagon said, her smile becomes larger for him and her hand more properly placed on his wrist. There is another soft comment given, but a flash of teasing in her eyes when she says it. Then she's indicating Niccolo and Edain. "Let us go see the good..." She pauses. She was going to use titles. "Let us go see Niccolo and see if Edain has brought his bird. I am so eager to see and so nervous to be seen by it. Luckily, I am a might larger than a mouse." She beams at Dawn. "He will of course enjoy himself." Because she will make him. Then she bats her lashes at Dagon a bit. "You will protect me from the bird if need be? Although, I am sure Pr-- Edain has him well trained. Have you spent much time with him? He is simply heroic." She will try to lead Dagon over to Edain and Niccolo and whomever is over by them.

"A wise man makes no promises except to try his best," Salazar says with a laugh and a good-natured wink. No promises anyone will get hurt is a vain promise! He gives a shrill three-note whistle, which summons a man from the Argento household. The man carries, in his hand, a large round ball-shaped item, brown and made of goatskin. "The rules are, there are very few rules. Don't hit below the belt and try to get the ball to the other side, through goalposts." He pauses and then laughs. "I kid. No, it's simply..." Salazar goes on to detail a sport much like Olympic handball: anyone holding the ball must stop moving and must pass it to someone else, while the other team tries to intercept. Whoever gets to the other side must try to toss it through a netted goal, while bouncing it at least once against the floor.

"I'm sure it was your very best vintage." That's it, that's all of Valkieri's hands. One has beer, the other has a horse. He turns towards Salazar and Dawn, brow furrowed in something akin to suspicion. "That does sound rather a good way to start a diplomatic incident," he says dryly to Salazar. But he has alcohol now, so there's that: he takes a sizable gulp, gaze flitting but briefly to Dawn.

Victus' mouth twists in a half wry grimace that might' been a smile as Sophie addresses him as a gentleman. He takes to her leave without much of a reaction beyond that, remaining preoccupied with the treeline, and the shadows under the crowns of leaves. Occasionally he sends looks around the crowd, but its more of a habitual thing than a sign of active interest. A need to be aware of his peripherals and the people intruding on it. His hands fold at the small of his back.

Dagon looks at Natalia for a moment, murmurs something, and then nods towards Niccolo and Edain. "Fine, let us go and see if there is a bird, though I'm not sure why you'd be scared of being seen by it. Edain trains his animals quite well, and so I have to think that his bird will be on its best behavior. Come, come. Let us see though." He begins leading her towards the others. "Oh yes, he and I have spoken several times. I am glad that he's made such a positive impression on you." He flashes her a brief smile before turning his attention to Edain and Niccolo. "Hello, mind if the two of us join? My companion here wants to see a bird and I knew exactly who was the right person to see."

Dawn considers this ball-made-of-goat with the look of a woman trying her best not to laugh. "That sounds utterly chaotic. Not to mention dangerous, when played beside a bonfire." And yet, with that observation made, she adds, "If you can convince others to form teams, you've my permission. Come." The pirate lord is beckoned along-- perhaps she intends to lead him to his first victims. Certainly, the lady is intent on moving again. Her course carries her towards the party from Gemecitta. "Gentlemen!"

"Dawn!" Pietro swings his beer high in the air in salute as he turns a smile towards the Grayson one of his hosts. "Hello! Look, no titles." He's so well-behaved. His smile becomes more of a beamish grin. "May I take advantage of the informality of the situation to properly greet your hound?" he asks.

Esera arrives on horseback, arrives at a gallop, her dark hair a shadow tossed back behind her in the wind. As she nears the camp, she slows the horse, and then brings it to a stop entirely. She swings down from her horse, and strides directly toward Dawn, wherever she may find her.

Edain bows to Dagon, "Good to see you Prince Dagon." He pauses, "Dagon. I am no good at this no titles thing." he clears his throat, and holds up his hand in the direction of hte tent pole where his favorite 'falcon' is perching. He whistles sharply and says, "Roland." The great horned out takes flight and lands on Edain's gloved left hand, as he presents the bird to Dagon and Natalia, "Prince Dagon, Princess Natalia." he smiles then to Niccolo, "And Duke Niccolo. this is Roland. He is very pleased to make all your aquaintances." The Owl meanwhile just seems to take a turn regarding each of them, his head cocking to an even more unnatural angle with each new person he inspects.

Seeing Natalia approach with Dagon, the duke leans towards Edain. "I think we have some visitors coming to our little kingdom," Niccolo muses and inclines his head to both arrivals. "Your Highness and, Your Highness," he says, looking from the Grayson to the Thrax. "How at the gods finding you both this evening?" He asks, curious. His dark brown eyes find Esera as she rides in, and there his gaze linger, but only briefly, his attention swiftly returning to Natalia and Dagon.

Natalia gives the softest of laughs to Dagon's comment and offers one in reply to him. There is a larger smile for him than his brief one. Her attention will turn towards Niccolo and Edain as they approach though. Her eyes scanning Edain's shoulders and arms for said bird. "I am sure, Dagon, that you are quite right and it shall be quite amazing." When Roland flies over, Natalia's eyes open very wide as she takes a step into poor Dagon. "Oh my..." Then a delighted laugh leaves her lips and she tries to take a step forward. "Prin--" There is another laugh. "YOu see, I am not good without titles either, Edain. Do you think that I might... pet your owl?" There is a hopeful look given to the High Prince. Her lips smile up at Niccolo and she offers brightly, "The evening and the Gods find me quite wonderful. I hope they are smiling upon you as well."

"Gentlemen," Salazar says, dipping down into a bow. He holds, in his hand, what looks like a kid-goat-skin that someone inserted a balloon into and then inflated. The legs flop around on the side, and the horn nubs are still there. "A diplomatic incident is the kind of thing, my good friend Valkieri, that brings men and women together in the best of times. Add a little alcohol, and it could be a matter of the state, aye?" He holds out his ball to Pietro, who happens to be close by. Despite looking like a goat, it feels nothing like a goat; its insides are a hard, almost rubbery feel, with a little bit of bounce to it, but plenty of weight.

Dawn tilts a speculative look between Pietro and Macdon, the latter of which is (mostly) heeled at her side-- though he's bright enough to recognize certain words, which leads to a wagging tail and a doggy grin... and then a prancing approach when Dawn chuckles and waves the hound forward. "He's coming back from this event spoiled, I can already tell. But do feel free... Pietro, yes? I think my my eye is improving, to tell you and your twin apart... ah! Esera!" That's right, the lack of titles tonight extends even to the Grand Duchess herself, who Dawn turns to greet with both hands extended. "You made it!"

"Ah, Roland. A strong name." Dagon comments, nodding, glancing at the owl with appreciation. "Yes, can she pet him? She was very eager to see it, weren't you, Natalia?" He flashes her a smile momentarily, turning his gaze towards Niccolo. "I am well, yourself? I still have a bit of nervousness about so many important people being outside the city, but I figure another sword and pair of eyes can't hurt." He catches sight of Esera riding in, nodding. "Let us all be vigilant, yes?"

"No, diplomatic incidents usually do the /opposite/ of bring people together," Valkieri disagrees, because he's a disagreer. His gaze flicks to Dawn, and he says, "You can usually tell them apart because Pietro always has three times as much energy. And Vincere would never ask to play with your dog." He straightens a bit as Esera joins them, bowing before he can stop himself. "Your grace," he says, then shoots an apologetic look to Dawn. Oh no titles.

Esera greets Dawn with a swift, strong embrace -- no ceremony here. "I was scouting," she says, pulling away again. She lifts both hands to brush a leaf from her hair, and then to pull it up into a loose bun. She stretches, an arch of her back. "If there were any great evils lurking in the woods, they would have taken me captive already -- or worse. I did not ride quietly." She laughs, a warm and resonant laugh. "Perhaps I give myself too much credit as a target."

"I'm glad to hear," Niccolo replies to Natalia and and Dagon, then lifts his shoulders. "I'm doing quite well, all things considered," he turns to study Roland. "It's quite a bird," he offers to Edain regarding the horned owl. "Very impressive, Your Grace," he says, and to Natalia and Dagon he adds, "Are you both planning to stay for the next couple of days?"

Now that Pietro has been handed a ball with legs dangling off it, he finds it appropriate to take a long pull from his ale. He tests the ball's weight on his palm, eyebrows flung up. "Huh," he says. "Pietro, yes! Vincere is the one who wouldn't do this," he says, basically mirroring Valkieri (he usually mirrors Vincere). He drops to his knees, temporarily setting the goat ball and the ale down on the ground, and says, "Hello!" to Macdon, reaching out to offer his hands and then inching forward on his knees like a dork to start scratching the nails of both his hands in long dragging skritch-strokes down the hound's sides. "Hello! You are beautiful and noble and mighty," he tells Macdon, lavish in his praise as only a courting Lycene can be. He's a half step away from flinging himself down and rolling around. In any case, he appears to be trying to get as much dog hair on his clothing as possible. "Valkieri, you better rescue Salazar's ball before I give it to this incredibly handsome stranger."

Esera smiles to Valkieri, and bows her head to him. "I am certain she'll forgive you," she says, even if his apology went unspoken.

Victus' dark eyes cut towards Dagon when the Thraxian Prince admits to suffering a bit of nerves. Its a brief look, and doesn't linger, though it does come accompanied with a guttural sound in the back of his throat. He breathes out. From Dagon his attentions shift towards Esera's arrival, bluntly studying the Grand Duchesse. The horse too gets a look, the kind of wary look you give something you don't want anywhere near you. For all that Victus is wearing a pair of riding boots today, rather than his usual sandals or more sturdy (and comfortably worn out) ones made for long treks.

"Of course, you can." Edain says bowing his head to Natalia, "He really likes attention." And as a mater of fact, as if he understood the word 'pet' The Owl starts leaning in Natalia's direction. Edain nods his head more soberly to Dagon and Niccolo both, "Of course, we shall all be vigiliant. Fun makes me very anxious, so I will calm myself by placing myself on guard duty frequently. If anyone does try to attack this camp.. I feel like it will end very very poorly for them." He smiles to then to Niccolo, "There are some wonderful gyrfalcon's being brought from our Mews that I think you will enjoy flying your Highness. I am hoping that Dagon has brought Storm with him. She is a sight to behold."

Freja slips in quietly at the edge of those gathered, having taken her time to make it down here. The scout speaks softly to a Redrain guard that walks alongside her. Still in her leathers, she rests a hand casually on the pommel of her sword as she moves along into the more central area of the festivities.

Macdon is far, far too large, and far, far too scruffy, to pull off puppyish convincingly. That doesn't mean he doesn't try though, wriggling and waggling and doing everything he can to basically pour himself into Pietro's lap. That's a whole lot of dog, though, and he does not really have awareness of how much force there is in the weight he throws into leaning while he licklicklicks at the Lycene's face.

"So if he turns up missing, now I know who to hunt down." Dawn, generous lady that she is, overlooks this terrible lack of dignity and opts instead to grin at Valkier. "Forgiven," she says on the heels of Esera's confidence, after the women's hug ends. "Provided it doesn't happen again." A teasing warning, surely. She turns back to Esera then, eyebrows lifting. "Unless they followed you back here! Oh no, you've led them right to us!" Except, really, this is just more teasing.

With no horse to call her own, Calista Fidante arrives to the camping grounds with a horse she stole from her brother's guards. He wasn't using it at the moment and poor thing needed to stretch his legs. The horse comes galloping so fast it would seem the young noblewoman is about to get tossed off when she stops just in the nick of time. "Whooooaaaa there, whoa.." Her heart is still racing as she dips down to rest her head against the horse's mane. "The things you do for apples!"

"Well, if my vassal turns up missing, I'll be checking wherever your hound is," Valkieri counters to Dawn. He reaches with his toe to sort of nudge the ball on the ground back in Salazar's direction. He's helping.

Esera wiggles her fingers in discreet greeting, although, through the crowds, it's hard to say who the greeting was meant for. "If I've led them back to us, I've led them back to die," she says. "We have the protection of Prince Dagon. No bandit is a match for a man -- for men -- of House Thrax."

"I suppose we -could- play a game of fetch the bashball," Salazar says. "Less chance of a diplomatic incident when we have dogs on the field than men, hm?" He takes a step forward and then gives the goatball a light kick. It skitters across the clearing, before being stopped by a little girl who picks it up and hugs it. "Could always get another," he says with a grin. Something seems to suddenly strike the Argento scion as something particularly important and, sans bashball, he makes his way back to the Argento camp, not to be seen for the rest of the night.

Natalia smiles right back towards Dagon. It's almost like his smile awards her one as well. There is a larger smile before she nods. "I have heard that Darren has a bear. Surely, that is a joke, right?" She looks between the men gathered. There is a nod of her golden head. "I do believe the plan was to stay, yes. Are you going to be staying as well, D--Niccolo?" Then her attention is captured by Roland. Her free hand reaches out, (for the other says on Dagon's wrist) to tentatively touche the owl. Then she laughs a bit to that. "OH! You are the most beautiful bird ever. I think I am already quite enraptured with you." Her eyes shine with happiness as she looks towards Edain. "We are still going out to ... attempt my hand at such hunting with birds, yes?"

Victus says of Calista's dramatic and near catastrophic arrival: "This is why I don't fucking ride horses." There's a stubborn insistance in his grumblings, too. Perhaps the gentlemanly thing would've been to approach to see if the woman's alright, flopped forward like she is, the large Thraxian warlord stays exactly where he is. Content to watch someone else's horse-disaster unfold without assitence or interruption.

Pietro cackles in visibly apparent (and noisy) delight -- and, seriously, no dignity at all -- as his courtship of the giant dog is apparently accepted. Knocked back from his knees onto his ass, his knees part and his nails drag hard and energized in their scruffing scritches down the animal's shoulders. "Aha- aah!" is the basic noise he makes from the ground. He's going to have to start regaining his feet -- if not his dignity -- eventually, and he begins to withdraw with the scoot of his butt over the grass in order to do that, shoving his knee beneath himself and launching himself standing with a springy leap that would just not even be possible if he were ten years older. "I could never steal another hunter's hound. What a dishonorable idea!"

Freja had found her way not far from Natalia, chiming in time as she passes, "Yes, my cousin does have a bear as I had one when I was younger. It isn't truly too out of place. It is a kind thing and affectionate, if you remain on its good side." She turns briefly to find a whiskey somewhere. Anywhere.

"I plan on staying a few days, yes." Dagon says, nodding to Niccolo. "Unless some other matters require me to return to the city. Chances are pretty high that I'll end up joining Edain on guard duty." He chuckles, nodding towards the Valardin highlord. "Roland will probably spot any problems before we do though." He turns to watch Natalia interact with the bird. With her attention on Roland, he glances at Edain and asks, "Ah, arranging a hunt? Well, I'll have to volunteer to come along then too, there may be a few streams or ponds for my little lovely to find some fish in."

"I'll have to go see them," Niccolo says to Edain, dipping his head. He turns his attention to Natalia, with a hint of a smile when she almost calls him by title. "You can call me whatever you feel like today, I suppose," he says to her. "Don't feel too bad if you use the title," he tells her. "And I don't know. I might stay, I might have to leave to take care of a few things," he says and looks around at the gathering. "I haven't decided yet. Perhaps I'll find something that makes up my mind one way or the other."

Edain nods to Natalia and says, "Of course. Hopefully this trip will provide an occasion for people to do so. However. I think I should give Dagon a chance to be social, and do some due vigiliance on his behalf. I am going to go walk the permiter of the camp, and see if there are any good game trails near by for us to travel." he pauses and looks to Roland, "Keep everyone company on my behalf." And that said Roland hopes of Edain's hand, and looks up at the people congregated in the small group. His eyes say it all, "'Sup."

"I would love to shoot a bear." The profuse outpouring of discontent from Ophelia is near palpable, with excessive sighs and dramatics that wouldn't fool anyone. She'd picked her way from the edge of a copse of trees, pinching out stray leaves from her curls as she found herself on the other side of Freja and Natalia. Her boots crunch lightly over the ground as she wonders, "If the Princess gets a bear as a pet, could I shoot it? Just once? In a paw or so?" Natalia is greeted by a graceful curtsey right there on the spot and then she's back to hopeless lock-taming.

Calista takes control of the large steed and dismounts as carefully and gracefully as one can after such a rousing ride through the city. "Let's see now, we'll need to anchor you to something." She could have said tethered for surely that is proper diction but her eyes spotted Victus and well, he is a sea man after all. "Lord Victus, fancy seeing you here." Her words are laced with the sort of mischief she is known for.

Macdon grants Pietro a reprieve when the goat ball goes tumbling away. Fierce hunter that he is, he goes loping after it all lazy-like, and the little girl who captures it too. Fortunately, he seems inclined to behave. For now.

Dawn studies Valkieri a moment and then, deliberately, she looks at Pietro and offers, "You're welcome to visit Grayson's kennels whenever you'd like. We've two litters of pups now, they could use someone with the energy needed to play until they're tired enough to work with beginning training." Take that! A horrible fate. Horrible. Then, chuckling, she tilts her head to Esera. Something quieter is said between the women. More conversational is, "No, I'd not want to be the bandits who came upon this camp looking for easy prey."

"It's as if you think the bear or the owner would idly stand by and let you shoot the bear." Freja says in dead pan, the Redrain's sharp eyes flicking to Ophelia only briefly.

Natalia hears Freja's voice and turns her blonde head to look at her. "Darling..." She waves her over. "We are not using titles tonight. It is rather bothersome, but fun." She offers to the woman. "Have you met my host, the most noble Dagon Thrax? Or the lovely refined Niccolo Velanosa or the most heroic Edain Valardin? This is Freja Redrain." There is a laugh though as Dagon invites himself along. "I never want to hear you say that I am forward again, Dagon. I shall deny it and remind you of this moment." Although she seems happy that he is joining in. "Oh Niccolo, you should surely stay. It will be dark and the city is too far for that. Stay and socialize. Perhaps make friends that you never thought you would." She watches Edain and leans in to kiss his cheek if he allows. "There is still a ball." She threatens teasingly. "Do make sure to see me and show me more of your wonderful Roland. I am in love now, and you mustn't break my heart."

"I hardly think we require Thraxians to defend us," Valkieri says a touch archly in reply to Esera. He owns a sword, after all. And a steed. He narrows his gaze on Dawn as she so deliberately makes her offer to Pietro. Watch it, you. "Sometimes I'm rather convinced Pietro /is/ a dog." Oops. There goes Salazar's ball.

"Is it?" is Victus' prompt response to Calista, made with his shoulder lifting in a dismissive shrug. Even as he says it, his eyes are turning towards the lavish state of affairs that marks the grand hunt. And the legendary amount of coin spent to put it all together. He indulges in a self ironic grimace, a shadow of a smile haunting the corner of his mouth with a similar colour to it. "Admittedly not how I'd throw a hunt. But its still a fucking hunt. If you're gonna see me anywhere," then it might as well be here, the unvoiced continuation of that sentence goes.

Ophelia loops one of her curls about her wee finger as she blinks slowly at Freja, bites on her lower lip and then peeks upwards in deep consideration. "I think...," she decides, after that pause, "... or I thought, really. That if you asked the owner nicely enough, they might consider it. That was the point of asking, wasn't it?" She skips forward a half-step to try to join Freja then, both hands clasping behind her back, "What's it like to shoot a bear, Princess?"

"I'd love to," Pietro admits with a crooked smile in Dawn's direction. "But if you're trying to stop me from annoying Valkieri, I'm afraid he's doomed. I replenish my obnoxiousness very quickly." Glancing sidelong at Valkieri with an uptick of his eyebrows, Pietro rolls his shoulders in an easy loosening as he settles his weight on his heels. "I'd enjoy that sport if someone were fool enough to try, honestly. It's been awhile since I hunted bandits on the road to Gemecitta. But I expect no one will be so foolish, and we must confine our sport to more traditional prey."

"Pray they never hope to find easy prey within the shadows of the gates of Arx," Esera answers Dawn. She overhears enough of Niccolo's conversation to be drawn away from her co-hostess, and toward her father. She slips up to him, at his side, and takes his arm in her own. "Am I not enough to make up your mind," she asks Niccolo. "What if you leave, and I'm kidnapped?"

"No titles. Got it." Freja nods to Natalia as a whiskey is procured, a hearty swig soon following. "I have met Dagon and Niccolo, yes. Edain? Can't say I have." She gives a casual salute to the men as her own introduction is made for her - she doesn't seem too perturbed by it. Her next words are for Ophelia, coming more as cautionary advice for the younger woman rather than chiding. "Well, reconsider what you were considering. Asking does not always equal 'yes'." She does humor the Velenosa though; the Shaman removes her headdress that is made from the head of a monstrous albino bear. One pink eye is missing, the jagged scar over the socket surely the death wound. She holds it out for Ophelia to gaze at as she says, "I can't say I have shot one, but I have killed one. They are ferocious foes and not something I would advise hunting on a whim."

"No, I feel no worries at all, surrounded by some company as this." This, from Dawn, for Pietro and Valkieri. She's even traded that more amused grin for a smile to punctuate this statement, giving it an earnestness that her previous teasing had lacked. Esera's departure leads her to nod to the other woman, that smile sent after her, before she turns back to the fellows sh's speaking with. "The hunting begins tomorrow, I believe. Every possible sort... on foot, on horseback. Even hawking," she says with a nod towards the group arrayed around Prince Dagon. "Macdon's been itching to run down something so..." She pauses as a servant hurries up to whisper in her ear. "Ah. If you would excuse me, gentlemen...?" And off she goes, circling around the bonfire on a course to somewhere, quick-like.

"Be well, Edain." Dagon gives the parting Prince a nod of his head. Natalia saying his name, causes him to turn and nod to Freja. "Ah, good to see you again, Freja. It's been some time since we last spoke. Maybe we'll get a chance to talk in the coming days." He smiles, though his expression sours somewhat at Natalia's remarks. "If I feel the comments are necessary, I will say them." His gaze shifts to Ophelia briefly, then moves past her to catch sight of Calista speaking with Victus. He nods to the Fidante, then shifts his attention to Niccolo. "Yeah, it all depends on how I feel tomorrow, but for now I will try and enjoy myself."

There is a tree where Calista tethers the horse and moves along to settle herself into the growing crowd. She tilts her head up to wink at the tall, brawny Thraxian lord. "It is! Especially since I ran into you on the beach just the other day. The beach, now the forest. I am beginning to think you are secretly following me." There are familiar faces in the gathering of people; Finger waggles of greetings to Niccolo, Esera, and Dagon first before she spots Natalia and Freja. "Hello everyone!" Super informal tonight.

"We certainly have met," Niccolo says to Natalia, offering a faint smile to Freja and inclining his head to her. "Good evening, Your Highness," he greets her, sticking to the title regardless of the apparent lack of need for them tonight. He turns to Esera and chuckles once at her words. He brings Esera's hand to his heart, and puts it there. "If my lovely daughter were to be kidnapped. I will gather every hero in the realms, and ensure that she's rescued. But yes, you are enough, you will always be more than enough for me, Your Grace," he dips his head to her and squeezes her hand affectionately. Seeing Ophelia alongside Freja, he lifts his head and goes on to greet her, "Hello my most favorite Princess Niece." A faint smile is offered in Calista's direction.

"That would be rather invigorating, wouldn't it," Valkieri says to the possibility of invading bandits. His gaze lingers on Dawn's exit a moment before pulling back to Pietro. "I think we lost Salazar's ball," he says. Then again, they also lost Salazar.

Ophelia opened her mouth after Freja's cautionary advice, but it rounded into a perfect 'o' shape when the monstrous bear headdress was closer towards her nosy hands - and nosy hands they were. She didn't precisely touch it, but the grabby arch of her fingers came close enough in hover around it to look as if she were trying to dual-palm it. Bright eyes link from the thing up to Freja and down again as she asks, "Was it with a spear then? A sword? A knife right in the eye until it squished? And it didn't even stain the fur. That's the amazing thing. It's almost like art, don't you think? Really, Princess. This only makes me want to do it more than less. You must be very, very proud. And the bear must have been very, very big."

Pietro lifts his hand to drop across Valkieri's back as he leans toward him, balancing his weight mostly on one foot as he mutters something to him through the teeth of a grin. Straightening up again, he looks up with a high sweep of his eyebrows. "I think the dog got it," he says. "Nothing for it. The ball had legs on it, it can't have rolled far."

"Seems it'd be the other way 'round," Victus drawls at Calista. "Seeing as I was here first. Seeing as I'd spent an hour running on up and down that fucking beach, too, before you accosted me." His eyes slip away from Calista towards a group of Thraxians gathered around the House's tents. "But if spinning the other version makes you feel better, by all means." There's a silence that follows, a long one, before he decides: "I need a drink." And there ends his engagement with Calista, or anyone else. The warlord heads towards the Thraxian tents to acquire some of the rum they're passing around.

Valkieri is too busy looking offended at whatever Pietro just murmured to him to keep his voice low in turn. "I'm not awkward!" he claims where anyone can hear (albeit without context). He's immediately conscious of it, though, gaze flitting briefly around them before returning to Pietro with a frown.

Natalia smiles warmly at Dagon. Oh is he being soured? She missed it. Her eyes slide over to him as she drops her voice to his ear. It's probably an apology, maybe? She starts to say something to Freja but she's talking about bears and hunting. So her eyes flick back towards Dagon as she taps his wrist lightly with her fingertips. "I think it is most wonderful for you to enjoy yourself." Her eyes turn towards Esera. "Oh, it is lovely to see you. I adored your entrance, it is always good to make one when one can." There is an inclination of her head towards Calista and a smile as well, though she looks back towards Niccolo. There is a smile for his addressing of Esera.

"Perhaps, but I may be called back to the city to see to training some of our new guards in the Ward." Freja remarks to Dagon, "But you are always welcome to seek me out if you wish for a continuation of our conversations. Will you take part in the hunting?" She asks of the Prince, the question extended to Natalia with her proximity. A wave is given to Calista when Freja catches sight of her out of the corner of her eye, but then Niccolo is greeting her. "Yes, we certainly have. Good evening, Duke." Since he has used a formal title in breach of the evening's rules, so has she. The Northerner even dips into a suprisingly graceful curtsey in spite of her scouting leathers. "I trust you are well?" she asks after his well being and turns back to Ophelia. "A sword. Clean and quick." And indeed, the pelt that hangs back off of the head doesn't show any exit wound to mar the beautiful snowy white fur. I can tell you the story another time if you wish?" She gives a slight shake of her head before returning the headdress to cover her unruly curls. "Not proud, simply something I accomplished."

Eyes widening, Pietro gives Valkieri a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder which is probably very close to enough to get himself punched, and says, "I didn't say that!"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

"I would have rather made my entrance earlier," Esera says to Natalia, and there's a note of apology in her voice. "But the forest stole me away." She murmurs to Niccolo, a few quiet words given to her father, and quickly lost in the thrum of the crowd. "I am sorry to have missed everyone's arrivals," she says. "Were the tents to their liking? Are the accomodations acceptable?"

"I'm a little, tiny bit hard to track down at times, but if I can be tracked, I would very much like to hear the tale. I'm so very sure it is wonderful. I'm terrible with swords myself." Ophelia reluctantly drew back her hands once Freja adorned herself again. The greeting towards Niccolo had her padding a half-step and bounce nearer to him, if only to enthusiastically try to peck his cheek, "Dearest and Most Favorite Grace Uncle. We were talking about the very modest Warrior Princess and her victory over a bear. There's inspiration everywhere, isn't there?"

Calista doesn't actually follow Victus to grab herself a drink. She finds one elsewhere and returns to the gathering of familiar faces. Though decked in white this evening, the young Fidante shadows Freja now, murmuring more quietly. "I know we did not get much of a chance to talk the other day, but I wanted to thank you for all the information you provided." Sounds intriguing, doesn't it.

More people join the little group, and Dagon nods and smiles to Calista and Esera. "I hope everyone is doing well, this little outing should be quite fun." A hint of amusement manages to creep into his eyes, and he leans over to Natalia and murmurs something in return. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he turns to Freja. "Maybe this weekend, or maybe next week. I'll try to find some time with you when it's convenient for you. I'm just appreciative of the time you've already given me, and look forward to learning more."

Valkieri looks thoroughly unconvinced by Pietro's claim, but when he snaps back at him, it's in a lower voice now.


On silent feet, Serafine slips forward through the woods at the sound of people, suspecting this to be the camping trip everyone has been fussing over lately. She's quiet, the inked and scarred woman relaxed as she moves, peering at the others, some she knows and some she doesn't, curious. She's in her leathers and a blue linen shirt, her long hair as sleek as silk.

Niccolo returns Esera's murmur, watching Calista as she steps away to get her drink, then turning to look at Freja and off her spares a glance to Natalia. "Her Grace has a way to make an impression whenever she arrives somewhere, doesn't she?" He muses and adds for Esera's benefit, "Nobody has complained about the accommodations, I think everyone is pleased," he shares, before his eyes turn to Ophelia. A faint smile shows on the man's lips. "A victory over a bear. That is certainly impressive. I once bested a boar, but someone had already shot it full of arrows," he shares. "And yes, one can certainly find inspiration in all places. You inspire me often enough, my dearest of nieces."

Returning to where she last left her cousin, Sophie notices that Edain is no longer there. Niccolo is, though, as are some new arrivals, to whom she amiably smiles and greets, "Hello." To the Duke, she lightly quips about Valardin's Highlord, "He went patrolling, has he?" The Mercy already knows the answer.

Pietro scratches thoughtfully along the line of his jaw, thumps Valkieri on the shoulder, and looks about. "Let's get more drinks," he says blithely, as though he didn't just mutter something Valkieri won't like. "Maybe something stronger. Is there wine? Maybe we should make some hellos--"

Natalia leans in a bit to listen to Dagon. There is a soft flush of her cheeks and a laugh before she gives a comment back to him. For a moment, she just watches the man from under her lashes. Then she slowly returns to the people around them. "Oh Esera, you should never apologize for an entrance. It is our right as women to have all eyes drawn to us." She gives a feigned sigh. "It is everso hard to be perfect." Then her smile flashes with mischief to the Grand Duchess. There is a greeting towards Calista. "Dearest...that horse looked like a beast. I am glad that you are alright." Her fingers are still on poor Dagon's wrist as she smiles towards Freja. "I am not sure I am much of a hunter. It does not mean I would not take part though.." She seems to be confirming with Dagon in a look.

"Tracking is one thing I do fairly well." Freja promises Ophelia with a wink, hiding her brief but genuine smile behind downing the rest of her first glass of whiskey. She doesn't balk at the burn, rather relishing it as she goes about procuring another. "Dagon, you are far too generous to me. I think next week will work better - we are terribly busy this weekend and perhaps we shouldn't tarry near business in what is supposed to be leisure?" Her eyes flicker to Calista and she says, "Was it now? I must admit, Natalia sprung that on me and it was done off the cuff. I think you should be the sacrificial lamb next time, teach me how to dress as -you- do." At Niccolo's words she crinkles her nose playfully, but makes no comment.

"I'm not /sensitive/!" is Valkieri's next louder-than-intended, without-context exclamation. He scowls at Pietro's thump of his shoulder, but seems to go along with wherever the younger man decides to lead him. He does finally hand off Tempet's reins to his servant to deal with.

Pietro checked composure against difficulty 8, resulting in 18, 10 higher than the difficulty.

Pietro bites down on his lower lip very hard and absolutely does not grin at Valkieri as he lopes through the crowd again, eye scanning blithely for someone else's conversation to invade like a besieging army of ... two.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Serafine before departing.

"Thank you for indulging me, Princess," Ophelia appreciates of Freja with an ever-warming tone to her voice and a guileless smile. Where there is a Niccolo, there is also an Esera and the Grand Duchess earns an even deeper curtsey, "My Grand Duchess of both Hearts and Flowers. Are you enjoying yourself?" Niccolo's return words has dimples clear in her cheeks as she feigns admonishment, "You're keeping your daughter entertained, right, Grace Uncle?"

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

"Perfection," Esera says, and lifts her thumb to brush a smudge of dirt from her cheek. "Is only ever illusory. There, and gone again." She turns from the group gathered here, to address the far larger group assembled at the campground. Her voice rises, arresting, above the hum of conversation and the rush of the wind. "Welcome, one and all," she announces. "The campfires will burn through the night. You are all invited to stay into the next day, and after. Let us live out the last days of summer with ferocity, and with spirit." Her voice falls back to a conversation murmur, and answers Ophelia, "My enjoyment is of no importance. I hope only that you will find -- and conquer -- your bear."

It's whiskey tonight in her cup and Calista smiles boldly at Freja's reply. "Absolutely. This is a complete game changer for me." For her, not for Leo obviously but she might come to learn her brother's favorite season is Winter where all the ladies have to bundle up and stay modest. "I think we should get together one night and talk about how we might fuse our cultures some. I'd like to stay warm." A playful wink accompanies the flick of her wrist as she brings the cup to her lips and watches some commotion going on just yonder. "Who are those two?" Inquiring of Valkieri and Pietro. Though her curiosity lingers, she spares a moment to smile favorably upon Natalia and laughs. "I will surely be hearing about 'borrowing' my brother's guard's horse." But she shrugs nonetheless. "Me, a sacrificial lamb?" Shadowed emerald eyes gaze heavenward and she drinks in a deep breath of air. "Very well, you've twisted my arm."

The Thraxian Prince grunts, though it's an amused grunt! He respnds to Natalia, then turns to focus on Esera and Freja. "True, good entrances can do much, though there's also something to be said for quiet entrances, especially if you're about to, well, nevermind." Dagon glances at Freja, deciding to talk about something else. "Yes, next week sounds fine. And generous? I'm not sure I'd say as much, but you are very kind. My thanks. How is Prince Darren doing? Will he be joining us here or is he busy? Oh..." He turns to Natalia, "Did you want to go on the hunt? It might be exciting. It depends on what we manage to catch."

"I would like that also, your Grace, but it means even more coming from you." Ophelia relays to Esera with due seriousness and a trio of nods to establish just how serious that is. She had applauded at the welcoming, heartily and even if she was the only one doing so. "Would you like the heart if I do so?" Her bright eyes train onto Niccolo once more as she adds, "You should give her the heart from the next bear, Grace Uncle."

Valkieri is remarkably unhelpful in terms of assisting Pietro in invading a conversation. He is much more focused on hunting down a glass of wine to replace his ale. Which he finds from a servant, but that just means he's clutching a different vintage while Pietro tries to extrovert for the both of them.

Natalia laughs softly at something Dagon says and then she leans her shoulder against his slightly. "Oh, if you would like to go to the hunt, I would be happy to attend to you. That is my role right?" It's so the other way around and probably everyone knows that. Then she smiles a bit more. "I would love to experience all there is to while I can. I have not been to a hunt yet while in this city." She looks over towards Calista. "It is so not a sacrifically lamb if you have time to prepare, but yes, you can be the next speaker of you want." There is a flash of a smile towards Esera. "I suppose that perfection fades in time." Then back towards Dagon and a whispered comment.

Niccolo allows a touch of a smile at Ophelia and lifts his shoulders in response to her question. "Her Grace usually manages to entertain herself without much of my help, but I do try sometimes," he notes. "Not that I'm always successful, mind you," he falls silent when Esera speaks, and after her words leans in to kiss her head. "If you do find a bear, be mindful to shoot it first. A lot, before trying to fight it up close," he suggests to his niece. "And yes, I think we should save the heart for her," he agrees. "Although perhaps Her Highness might want to partake of the heart this time," he muses, with a look to Freja. "How are you today, my dear?" The question is aimed at Calista, the duke looking in her direction.

"If you bring me the bear's heart, I will be honored by it," Esera promises Ophelia. "And I will accept the gift with the same courage you accepted yours." She smiles up at Niccolo, a moment shared between father and daughter, and then turns to slip away into one of the tents. "Time," she adds to Natalia, just before she goes, "only opens our eyes to imperfection."

Pietro collects another set of drinks. This isn't wine. This is whiskey. Pietro sniffs it, and then offers one to Valkieri with a cock to his eyebrow. "Smells strong," he says. Drinks obtained, he looks back to Valkieri only to discover he found the wine. "Oop, guess I'm going to have to drink both," he says. This won't go wrong at all. He takes a sip, and then asides to Valkieri, "I was right, it's strong. I'm drinking alcohol fumes. Graysons aren't kidding about their whiskey."