Dark was the night sky, stretching its vast expanse over the countryside estate just north of Edinburgh. A failing moon threw silvery light across the barren treetops of a sprawling forest, from which the craggy earth rose into a meadow - and on that meadow the Spectre estate was lit by its own warm, flickering lights.

Twin bonfires blazed wildly on the green. Pipe and fiddle music filled the air.

As guests arrived, apparating into the gardens, they might have caught sight of the night's first spectacle: Nathaira Spectre, wearing a wooden crown carved into the shape of a Hippogriff's head, cautiously leading a Hippogriff between the bonfire. Her eyes were hidden behind the crown but a wide grin was unmistakably visible beneath the mess of feathers.

Behind her, leading one creature in tandem, the twin brothers walked past the fires in their downy Manticore costumes. Balfour concluded the procession of siblings - his attire a leathery dark green, interrupted only by blood red thorns running down the spine. Níðhöggr, ancient dragon of Yggdrasil. The wizard guided his Hippogriff, a dark brown beauty, between the flames and emerged on the other side to bow theatrically at the gathering crowds - most who were already getting into the food and drink.

Spectre clan relatives, friends, the odd Ministry colleague. Oblivious to the grown ups, children ran amuck around the estate gardens in their colourful costumes, screaming through the music or pilfering food from the great table laid out on the terrace. Older ones went around labelling pebbles with names and setting them around the bonfires to be divined in the morning.

The Spectre siblings began to disperse, joining their friends.


"Water!" Balfour exclaimed as he wrenched off his dragon's crown, shimmering with verdant scales. The blue eyes beneath were smeared with black coal. "My kingdom for water!" he licked his lips thirstily, abandoning the Hippogriffs to be led away by an older cousin before joining several guests at the buffet of foods. "How are we getting along then?"

Someone managed to hand him a tall glass of something that probably wasn't water and he glanced around, picking up on the familiar faces hidden behind unfamiliar costumes.

Nona Spectre had a deep and abiding love for most things concering her family, this obviously extended to the annual Samhain celebration. Most people thought of the evening starting with the lighting of the twin bonfires and the walk of Hippogryffs, but it actually began weeks before. Costumes were very important of course, they had been since Nona was a child (though she hardly needed an excuse to dress up, ever, in her life). This year in particular  she was feeling pleased with herself, perfectly made up face partially obscured by wire mask of two Swans, a pair of great wings seemed to protrude from her back folding themselves over her shoulders providing warmth against the night air and the scanty nature of her corset'd dress.

It was a well known fact Nona despised her given name, there was absolutely nothing poetic about being called Fionnuala - unless of course you considered the Celtic folklore in which she was turned into a swan along with her brothers. It was a reoccuring costume over the years, as Nona fell in and out of love with various swan stories. This was perhaps her most ambitious undertaking, simply because the magic to form the wings had taken ages and she'd had to practice even walking with them, let along dancing. She was nothing in not committed to the festivities!

When Balfour called for water she obliged, sort of, handing over a mixed drink from the nearby bubbling cauldron, snickering "I'm sure it has water in it," her smile was wicked as she helped herself to a glassful as well. She was busy scanning the crowd for a familiar dark head (or two, if you counted Adon), only slightly disappointed when she couldn't find them. The night was still young after all, and she was in good company, "so do we get to make jokes about matching couples' costumes yet, or do we still need to pretend to be nice"?

There was no secret in the world as badly kept as Margo’s love for parties.  Any party worked for her.  Of course, there were some parties that were of a distinctly higher quality than other parties.  For instance, a bridal shower was probably amongst the lowest ranking parties, along with baby shower, usually because they meant a lot of really smug people in a room (particularly the baby shower set… not that Margo got invited to that sort of thing… for a reason) and no alcohol.  But, then there were the holiday parties: New Years, Christmas… the good ones.  Highest on Margo’s list was always a good Halloween party. 

Though, that’s not what Balfour was calling it.  He had to be different and so Scottish.  The whole clan was like that, even her roommate who didn’t even need to insist she come to the party.  It was a foregone conclusion, particularly because she knew if it were a Spectre party it was bound to be fun.  She’d even coerced Vincent into agreeing to stay for more than an hour.  Not that it’d be a problem once he had a couple of drinks.  Grumpiness went away pretty quickly, turned out. 

But, she needed a costume and Margo, although she could pay for something, rarely decided that she was going to do that.  So, she did what she did best: half-arsed it.  Finding her own clothes that would fit in a sort of theme and then making a “surprise” trip home to rummage through the attic, Margo came out with a coat that immediately inspired her costume.  A few sickles on an eyepatch and some needlessly expensive (but very cool and reusable) rings later… plus the parchment she stole from the office… and viola pirate! 

She sauntered into the party with the same drunken swagger any good pirate would have (even without being drunk) and was glad that someone immediately made the peg leg joke because honestly, how long was that going to go unnoticed?  Then she had to hit up the food... because it looked amazing - even by firelight, maybe especially because of the bonfires!  And at the end of the table was her real prize: a bowl of liquid that could only have one thing in it: booze.  Getting herself some (after stuffing her face with a couple of finger foods), Margo swallowed hard and looked around - catching the sheen of red and frilliness that could only belong to one: Nona.

"When are you ever nice?" she managed to cut in, catching the last of what Nona said before grinning at Balfour.  "Wicked costumes, both of you," she complimented readily.  Between the spiny jacket and the folded wings - good show!  Really, she admired his dedication to costume creation.  She was far less creative, as evidenced by the haphazard pirate look. 

Camille already felt a little giddy for smiling so much and the evening was young. Hippogriffs! Good grief, she had seen such in the paddocks at Hogwarts from her classroom window but she hadn't seen them quite so close in many years. What terrific, daresay frightening beasts they were!

The bonfires crackled into the night sky, popping and snapping as the branches warmed and warped with the heat. It was a little chilly, but nothing that her cloak was not prepared for. The deep red and gold colour was not as feathered as her son whose hand she grasped, but covered her to her ankles to keep her warm in the night. A cautious hand went to her hat - the top of the phoenix head she had constructed on evenings between sets of marking was pinned firm into her curls.

"Is that him?" Camille asked all of a sudden, pointing out the wizard handing a hippogriff over to another, dressed like a dragon.
"Yes, that's him."
"Oh good choice!"

Mother and son dissolved into laughter and he swept his arms around her, hugging her tight. It felt wonderful to be genuinely happy and to be able to have a little fun. Fair enough she was missing the Hogwarts feast, but she spent every waking hour with those colleagues and those children. To get out and even if she was still in Scotland, it was a change of scenery and full of new people to meet.

"Introduce me to people won't you darling? I'm having a hard enough time recognising you under all those feathers. And to Balfour when there's a good moment? I promise I'll be on my best behaviour."

Onwards! To new people.[1]

1.	Totally down for threading with anyone - please assume the lanky son has introduced

As always, the Spectres made a grand entrance with their costumes and Hippogriffs. A wonderful display, though he much preferred flying horses to flying... horse birds. Nothing wrong with the beasts, except their pride. Of course that might be considered hypocritical of the Scotsman. He had more than his share of pride, especially in his work and his daughter. Ah, yes. That was a portion, a very small one, of why he was here tonight. He needed to speak to Balfour about getting her out and about in the world a bit. That of course could wait, it was a party!

Naturally while they were doing their entrance Angus was at the table getting himself a drink, none of the fruity options either. Taking his first sip for the night his eyes scanned the crowd of those who were here and those still arriving. They all looked like a fun lot. A phoenix head topper caught his eye though and he decided that would be where he started his night. He was always looking forward to meeting new people after all. The woman and her son, or so he assumed it was impossible to tell sometimes, seemed a wonderful place to start.

Making his way over his bear hide cloak trailed behind him a bit. He wasn't exactly creative with costumes, though it was no matter. The padding and claws overlaying his hands and fingers were recognizable enough, along with the ears magicked to his head.

With a hearty grin he greeted the two merrily, the thought that they might have difficulty with his rather heavy accent never crossed his mind. "Hello! Angus McBoid. Pleasure to meet you. This is quite a great turnout, aye? I'd say the Spectres had outdone themselves but they don't do anything half-arsed."

His mother's easy compliment of Balfour produced healthy laughter in them both. She had always been his favourite of his parents, but always in his father's shadow growing up. Rarely entirely independent, their time together had waned considerably in his adult life and at times he had considered her suffocating - distancing himself from her to avoid Wolfgang.

Although it was only a month since his passing, and at times he recognised that same forced smile on her face as he adopted, his mother was doing well to adjust to her new life. He realised that he had never given her credit for how strong she was behind it all. Here she was now, quite happy that he had paired off with another wizard, when the mere insinuation of it to his late father had nearly caused a fight. Johann was very glad, he'd been tentative to broach the subject with her, and couldn't help but be a little nervous of the prospect of her and Balfour meeting.

However ridiculous he felt covered head to toe in feathers with an hawk (Veðrfölnir) perched at the top of his head, just a little above his eyes so he could see, it did not reduce on his merriment for being there. He was the eagle and Balfour Níðhöggr. All he needed was to track down which young cousin it was dressed as a squirrel, name them Ratatoskr, and allow them to run between the two passing mischievous messages. His mother's phoenix costume was more simplistic, with feather pattern on the cloak, and something she could assemble at Hogwarts, a beak extending past her forehead.

"I'm sure you will be," He confirmed to his mother as she promised to meet Balfour politely. His mother was definitely the softer sort, easily likeable. Like her son, she quite enjoyed meeting new people, and the move to Scotland meant that happened nearly every day.

"Let's get another drink while we have a moment." Johann suggested, allowing his mother to continue to link her arm with his. Just as they recharged their glasses a wizard dressed as a bear greeted them warmly, towering over them, nearly half a foot taller than Johann. The accent was Scottish - perhaps the Islands, Johann was still very much adjusting his ear to the differences in the Scottish accent while immersed in them tonight.

"They have indeed," Johann agreed, raising his voice to be heard easily over the music and the whoops and cries of the children who raced around. "Johann Storm, may I introduce my mother, Camille." He neglected to assign a surname to her, and clapped Angus' hand with a firm handshake before turning slightly to allow his mother to do the same.

"Have you been before?" She asked Angus, drawing closer, eyes admiring his bear cloak, "I'm only recently acquainted." Her Belgian accent rather supporting it.
"Your name is familiar," Johann followed, a hand to his chin in thought as he studied Angus, "Are you also in the business of beasts with the Spectres?" 

Being handed a drink by another Spectre was not so much a kindness as it was a challenge, and Balfour accepted Nona's with a wide grin as he tousled her red locks affectionately. What a delightful swan she made, had always made. Precedence never dulled the concept.

But then Margo was upon them!

He clapped a hand on her shoulder, leaning back to get a good look at the ensemble - the dragon wings that extended from the back of his jacket broadened their span in response to the shift in posture. Clearly the witch had missed her true calling as a pirate. Telling her as much would do nobody any good.

"She has to be nice, around the wee ones~" Balfour remarked while a mess of knee-high pigmy puffs children sprinted past them, ducking beneath the buffet of food and disappearing under the table for some surely nefarious purpose. "But you're both welcome to be nasty, in the spirit of the season, as long as you don't blame me when your divining stones go missing in the morning."

An empty threat, considering the last time that happened was before he'd even been born. Balfour tossed his head back to drain whatever the cauldron was turning up tonight (he still wasn't sure after drinking it) and then slammed it down with a cacophonous cough...

... nearly swearing. Best behaviour. Right.

"Odin, that burned. Well. Which of you am I carrying into the Ceilidh?" he straightened his back and replaced the elaborate dragon crown, pompous with ceremony. "Or am I the one being carried?" A cheeky, almost boyish flash of teeth showed underneath the yellow jewelled eyes. He wanted very much to find his date and whisk the wizard away for a dance - but they had the night ahead of them.

And really, it had been far too long since he'd danced with either Nona or Margo in a state of relative sobriety.

She had never been to the Spectre estate-- Maiko wasn't particularly close to the Spectre family, though she knew of them thanks to having people in common. This was her first Halloween party in... Merlin knows how long. She could hardly count the Hogwarts one last year-- she had been ill last year and didn't even get to dress up, let alone go to the celebration. Mai didn't regret missing it this year either. She had been around the school during the day with some appointments. Many of the students and some of the faculty had dressed up in costume. Besides, she spent the majority of her time at Hogwarts to begin with.

This year, she was a phoenix. The feathered skirt of her costume had enchanted to look like flame with movement. In her hands was a fondue pot. In no time at all, she found the food selection and the designated area for her contribution. Behind her, Rascal followed-- her little pack mule. It was only fitting, he had chosen to dress like some sort of spider. As a result, he had eight arms that were being put to use carrying the dippers for fondue (vegetables, cubed crusty bread, sliced sausages, apple bits, the usual.)

She had forgotten what it was like to go to a party hosted by people whose family clearly was wealthy. It was overwhelming! Despite her muggle grandparents having had quite a bit of money, she was distant from them and never attended those family gatherings. Ties had been all but severed with them when she had come of age, and the most contact she had was paying rent to her grandfather and sending and receiving Christmas cards via muggle post. 

Maiko hoped that she'd see a familiar face.

It seemed that birds were a popular costume. She saw a swan, some feathered-thing (a hawk?) and another phoenix. Despite them being the same exact bird, she appreciated the diversity in the costumes! It was then that she realized that the other phoenix was her co-worker, Camille. The counselor beamed. "CAMILLE!" She exclaimed, setting the fondue pot on the table before waving at her co-worker enthusiastically. "Look, Rascal!" She exclaimed, "One of my people." One of her people, meaning fiery magical majestic bird-creatures.

"Nice costume!" She mouthed, motioning towards her own head vaguely, complementing the bird head.

At the newly acquainted Camille's question and statement he had to grin, "Aye, every time they throw a party if I can help it. Only chance I get to socialize with someone other than me brother, not including days I'm at the market." Holding up his cup as though to make a cheer he continued, "Let me be among the first to welcome you then, you won't regret being here unless you're too sober."

As he took another swallow her son mentioned his name being familiar and he nodded at his question. "Aye, lad. I raise winged horses as well as board other magical equines. We've even got a unicorn on the land if you're of a mind to visit. My daughter has the thing spoiled when she's home. Though I reckon that's all the animals, really."

It was a bit later than their introductions, though when did conversations ever go in a normal way, but he asked anyway, "I suppose you wouldn't be related to that Ignan Storm fellow, would you? Not that it matters of course as it's not related or relevant to you or all this. It's just that I've noticed Moira's grades improving lately and she merely grunts when I ask about it. Ah, Moira's me daughter by the way." Angus had a little tendency to forget himself at times. Not everyone was caught up on his familial matters.

Turning his head hearing someone holler his conversation partner's name he noticed another woman also dressed as a phoenix at the table. With a smile and a wave of his hand he invited her over to join them if she so desired.

Looking back to Johann he glanced him over. "You say also in the business of, but ye don't look to be the kind to raise animals beggin' yer pardon."

Flynn was surprised that he had been able to get tonight off of work. Alas, he had been too busy to put together a new costume, so he dusted up his default-- one that had been used multiple times for multiple gatherings... The majority of which were not Halloween-related in any way whatsoever.

The giant weenie hobbled over to the food, eyes taking in all the deliciousness.

As a man who lived on take out and leftovers, this was a luxury. Flynn had never been a cook. A potioneer, yes, but not a cook. The two could be very similar, but he simply did not enjoy cooking as much as he did potions. and therefore he put minimal effort in. How his mother had allowed him to move out without knowing how to cook the basics was beyond him. His sister, Audrey, on the other hand... Knew how to cook and rarely went out. But she cooked boring food. Rabbit food. Poor Linus barely got to indulge in staples such as fish and chips or... Cake.

At the table, he saw a few familiar faces. He waved at Maiko, but she didn't see him-- was too focused on another pheonix.

But that was no matter, they could catch up another time. He saw another bird! This one significantly less flame-y and more swan-y.

"Nona!" He said, pouring a mystery punch into one of the provided glasses, "Which food should I try first?" Flynn cocked his head to the side, "Beautiful costume. Are you a swan or..?"

The costume, complete with warming charms to keep her feet and arms from freezing and catching a bloody cold wasn't perhaps the most animal suited as the instructions per invitation had stated, but matched with the mask and eyeshadow, it hid Gabrielle's identity fairly well. Moving around the grounds, she had taken hold of a few of the rambunctious little cousins, Niall[1] included, squishing them with warm hugs and promises to give sweets to later on if they weren't too much of a problem. Finding Uncle Bhaltair was fun as well, having to give her own promise to find time to dance one reel, maybe two lest he find her and drag her out for a handful more. She approached the food table, grabbing a few pieces of pumpkin cider bread, tapping her foot along with the beat of the ceilidh, smiling. This was home, comfort and memory intertwined into a location Gabrielle felt close to. To be near your roots, your calling -- Spectre Estate and Murray Manor did just that.

After the dreariness of Hanover at the beginning of the month (Gabrielle was doing her best to push the thoughts away, including at the given moment), being here was absolutely fantastic. Her eyes soon followed around the surroundings. Glimpses of the wee puffs moving about, a phoenix -- no, make that two and both were equally lovely, a dragon-esque type and an hawk were here. Listening to a few of the voices, Gabrielle was able to narrow the hawk and phoenix down to her Germanic cousins, soon now moving towards them after taking one more piece of the bread. Standing a few steps pace nearby as to avoid interrupting the conversations, Gabrielle listened on, smiling sure enough until a pause was made.

"Chomh hálainn leis![2]" Gabrielle drawled out towards Camille's outfit, trying out her hand at the Gaelic she remembered roughly as to keep up the appearance of someone that they didn't know. Hopefully, just maybe it would work. Blast it all though if Johann or Camille saw right through it all.

1.	The Peace Lilies Can Wait
2.	How lovely! (compliment)

"Have you been before? I'm only recently acquainted."
"Aye, every time they throw a party if I can help it. Only chance I get to socialize with someone other than me brother, not including days I'm at the market." The great bear, Angus explained. Camille was still rather admiring his costume as she glanced between it and his face from below.
"Let me be among the first to welcome you then, you won't regret being here unless you're too sober."
"Thank you!" Camille exclaimed, and raised her own drink to Angus, a bright smile breaking out across her face.

"Your name is familiar, are you also in the business of beasts with the Spectres?" Johann asked, equally intrigued by their new acquaintance. 

"Aye, lad. I raise winged horses as well as board other magical equines. We've even got a unicorn on the land if you're of a mind to visit. My daughter has the thing spoiled when she's home. Though I reckon that's all the animals, really. I suppose you wouldn't be related to that Ignan Storm fellow, would you?"

The pair of them shifted their feet slightly and Camille bit her bottom lip with a smirk.

"Not that it matters of course as it's not related or relevant to you or all this. It's just that I've noticed Moira's grades improving lately and she merely grunts when I ask about it. Ah, Moira's me daughter by the way."

"He is," Camille replied gently, tilting her head to Johann, even though by her marriage she was too. "And I think I know of Moira too."
"Mother is Arithmancy Professor at Hogwarts." Johann clarified, leaning in a little to help his voice be heard over the noise.
"I will let him know you're pleased." Camille assured Angus, resting her hand ever so gently on his arm to convey her sincerity.

"CAMILLE!" The shriek of recognition from across at the table brought her attention round. Was that Maiko in a phoenix costume too. Gracious, they should have conferred on costume.

"Thank you!" She called in reply, and waved with a smile. Someone to catch up with later, two firebirds together.

"You say also in the business of, but ye don't look to be the kind to raise animals beggin' yer pardon."

Johann almost choked on his drink and his mother gave a laugh.
"Oh gosh no, he doesn't raise animals, you're quite right." She assured Angus.
"I know Balfour." Johann quickly followed up in clarification, not quite sure how to describe what they were to other people still. He felt awful for generalising, and Camille could see him dip his head a little uncomfortably at the description. His late father's and other people's prejudices made him wary.

A strangely masked figure appeared with them all of a sudden, greeting them in gaelic. Camille could not identify what animal it was.
"Hello there?" She answered, confused, hoping that it might also speak English or that Angus might speak whatever it had just spoken.

Nathaira Spectre was an eddy of Hippogriff feathers and labyrinthine layers of flowing fabrics. Her crown, the carved eagle head,  stared vacantly over the throngs of costumed peoples who either ate or danced or fell into one another in surprising conversations. She had thrown off her shoes as soon as the bonfire walk was over and was now being helpfully carried through the party by her fiancé.

He was almost an invisible figure, cloaked in the velvety darkness of a Thestral costume. She held on to him with a hand across his shoulder and legs dangling sweetly from the crook of his arms.

"Stop!" Knox exclaimed on their way to join Balfour at the buffet table, pushing up her crown to look through the silhouettes cast by the flames. "Put me down, dear?"

Carr obeyed - voice muffled by the equine mask he wore. "As you wish. Are you going to play hostess? Ought I save you a plate of something?" he was as gentle as sin in letting her feet touch the ground and she smiled at him, a rare combination of gratitude and amusement.

"Some pudding or other. I've only to do my duties." Nathaira made a melodramatic gesture, turning away and knowing with certainty that he was watching her go. She disappeared into a group of older witches, surrounded by children who were demanding their names for the remaining stones.

The children allowed themselves to be distracted by her momentarily, letting out a cheer as she gave them Fizzing Whizzbees in passing - it was the sweet that the wee ones were collecting in competition this year. She laughed at their clamour, pausing only to ask one of the older girls if she'd seen their tall and dark stranger tonight. She had.

---


"Angus Mcboid!" Knox exclaimed, joining Johann's odd clutch of people with confident ease. She embraced the older man, wishing him a merry Samhain, and then - as if though they hadn't only seen one another before the festivities - pulled Johann into a hug. "Afraid that I'm no Ratatoskr," the feathered witch said in a low voice and slipped a piece of parchment into his hand.

It did not seem too long ago that Balfour was the one running secret notes between her and her boyfriends. Nathaira released the wizard without ceremony, turning instead to Camille and the figure she recognised as probably being cousin Gabbie.

Only Gabbie spoke gaelic so poorly.

"Poor place to be practicing, cousin!" she told her in their clan tongue, uncertain of what mischief was being gotten up to between the women. Knox looked from her to the other witch, extending a slender hand in greeting. "And you must be Camille. I'm Balfour's sister, Nathaira. Has everyone eaten? Drinks? They're brewing something vile at the cauldron but there's Firewhiskey and tea to be had in the kitchens."

Camille's appreciation of his costume didn't go unnoticed and Angus grinned in appreciation. Angus was also impressed with her profession. Not everyone could be a teacher, though many tried, even if her teaching subject wasn't one everyone would take. He certainly wouldn't want to be stuck teaching a bunch of hormonal children, rather having spirited and stubborn horses any day.

Watching both of their reactions closely he gave a bit of a nod. From what he knew of Balfour and the faint blush gracing the young man's cheeks he was fairly certain he knew just how they were acquainted. Clearly it wasn't something he was quite comfortable talking about and so Angus didn't push the issue.

At that time a welcome and familiar figure arrived and Angus beamed, wrapping his arms around her in return. "Knox," he greeted fondly. It was always a welcome pleasure to see her and the others of the clan. Some of them could be more difficult than others but that was how people, and families, were and he wouldn't have changed them for anything.

When the masked stranger approached and complimented Camille she did so in Gaelic. Though it seemed Camille was unfamiliar with the language. He was aware, though, that this stranger did not have much practice, and Knox agreed responding in the same tongue keeping her identity a secret. With a smile the Scot spoke to Camille, "She thinks your costume is lovely."

Grinning again at Knox' skilled role of hostess he downed the contents of his glass and held it up with a wink, "I could handle some Firewhiskey. You're probably right and I should get something to eat, though. So much excitement I had near forgotten." Which wasn't really true, Angus wasn't one to miss a meal. It was required energy to get all the work down back at home.

There was something oddly familiar about the strange figure jabbering to them in a tongue Johann didn't speak. His mother went for being polite in her greeting.

"Angus McBoid!" Knox's bright greeting cut through the confusion and Balfour's sister threw her arms around the giant wizard, exchanging pleasantries before turning and drawing Johann into a hug, which he hadn't anticipated. Thank goodness for sticking charms for the hawk perfect atop his head. He heard McBoid say something about a costume just before Knox's voice lowered in his ear.
"Afraid that I'm no Ratatoskr," their fingers met unseen by the others and for a moment Johann's eyes met hers in understanding as they parted, touched by the kind gesture and nod to the mythology.

He folded the parchment between this fingers and exchanged confused glances with his mother over the Gaelic being spoken, jumping slightly as he remembered himself that he should have introduced Knox to his mother. However, the host was one step ahead of him.

"And you must be Camille. I'm Balfour's sister, Nathaira…" He saw his mother take Knox's hand with grace and a friendly smile, exclaiming how excited she was to be here, and that she had not celebrated a Samhain in Scotland before.

"I could handle some Firewhiskey," Angus exclaimed, and Johann took a step back while they were busy to unfold the note and take a glance, slipping it away immediately before he was observed.
"I'm sure you can," Camille exclaimed, with a great grin on her face. She was rather fond of one too! "But food sounds lovely, which way?" She asked Angus, before turning back to Knox.
"Thank you, Nathaira, for inviting us…"

"Mother," Johann spoke directly, reaching a hand to her elbow, "Go with Angus, find some food, I will see if I can't find him before you have too many whiskeys." He winked and inclined to kiss her cheek.
"Don't be too long." She replied, not out of being worried for being alone, but because she had wanted to spend a little time with him.
"I promise. Angus, don't let her drink you under the table." He clapped a hand briefly to the back of McBoid's upper arm before giving them all a nod and retreating.

Exiting for now to Deep Behind your Wanting Ways