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Post by Ladorak on Jul 31, 2011 16:42:17 GMT -5
(( www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7AYJ_PPdAI I pictured that playing for this. XD)) Saumarez regarded his soon to be father-in-law with unmoving features at first, remaining stolid in the face of the threat to hang him, but then he broke out into a slow smile as Roland mentioned the great esteem he now regarded him with, and blushed visibly as Roland mentioned the only thing that would make him prouder would be the reception of a kit. He caught the wink that Roland gave him, and scratched the back of his head a little, his mind already racing. He nearly moved past Roland before he remembered tradition. "Gah! What am I doing?" he asked, shaking his head and pawing Steep's paw over to her father. "You need to walk her down the aisle after all. I'll be waiting at the end!" he exclaimed, and jogged off into the chapel, heading behind the pews and down the side so as not to congest the aisle any. He managed to reach the altar, seeing that one of his brothers was in fact filling in for his best jack. "Hey! Got the ring?" he asked as way of greeting. "Yep... that I do." the weasel sibling stated, nodding as he flashed the black box. "Alright... good... here we go." Saumarez licked his paw and tried to smooth his cowlick out, and then stepped up to the altar, having no idea if he had succeeded or not. The organ began to belt forth, and resonate throughout the entire chapel. It was playing a traditional tune of some sort, a nice one that was reserved and not at all bombastic, though it was still loud. The two began to walk down the aisle; the few dignitaries that had been able to attend were clustered more toward the front and the commoners in the back. The two families were right in the first rows, his mother bawling, as she always did whenever one of her sons married. Sighing a little, it was completely inaudible in here as he nonetheless smiled, looking directly at his bride-to-be. Taking her paws in his as her father released her, he was beaming now as the preacher started his speech. "We are gathered here today, on this happy and joyous occasion, to join this jack and this jill in holy matrimony. Marriage is a solemn institution to be held in honor by all; it is the cornerstone of the family and of the community. It requires of those who undertake it a complete and unreserved giving of one's self. It is not to be entered into lightly, as marriage is a sincere and mutual commitment to love one another. This commitment symbolizes the intimate sharing of two lives and still enhances the individuality of each of you. You may retrieve the rings." Saumarez turned to pick up the small golden band from the box, sliding it out and keeping it in between two of his claws. Turning back around, he inhaled and held it. "Sir James Saumarez, Knight Grand Cross, do you take this jill to be your wedded mate? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to her as long as you both shall live?" He closed his eyes, sinking into himself for a moment, and exhaling as he reopened them and fixed Priscilla with his gaze. Taking her left paw in his own, he started to slide the ring on, pushing it gently over her knuckles and knowing that this was the moment of union. The giving of his self to her. "I do." He said, not looking at the preacher, but rather right at her. "Her Highness, Princess Priscilla Steep, do you take this jack to be your wedded mate? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him in sickness and in health, remaining faithful to him so long as you both shall live?" Saumarez blinked, but kept his eyes right on her, trying not to tense up too much as he kept his paws steady, the slight trembling probably hardly noticeable until she touched him.
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Post by spender on Aug 5, 2011 19:47:57 GMT -5
...remaining faithful to him so long as you both shall live?
"I do."
I'm going to burn.
"Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may—"
Steep's head darted forward, her nose bouncing off Saumarez's for a brief moment before she remembered to tilt to the side a little.
"—kiss the bride..."
It was a short kiss; Steep wasn't one for openly snogging in front of crowds. But when it was over, she kept her head close, enjoying the ticklish tangle of whiskers, and the hot musky fog of his breath.
She closed her eye, and wished she could close her ear. The sudden applause and cheers from the pews grated on her. She was doing no better than she had at the end of the battle, but simply holding back the pain now. She forgot how comforting it could be to just let go, and now the façade was getting harder.
She breathed out, then leaned against him, letting him lead her to whatever was next. She didn't care. If there was food, or talking, meeting relatives, being whisked off to private chambers—she would be ready for it now. The difficult part was over.
Now she just had to try living again.
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 10, 2011 10:52:50 GMT -5
The kiss was admittedly much shorter than Saumarez would have liked. He had wanted to indulge himself a little, and show his rather intense passion for her (he wasn't sure if it was full blown love just yet) in front of everyone, but she broke it off too quickly before he could. It would've been one of the few times where he would have let his guard down in public... but it wasn't to be.
Studying her carefully, he could see someting beneath the surface. She still wasn't holding up very well, either from the noise, the pressure, or something else. He intended to remedy that when he could.
He turned to face the applauding crowd, did a little bow, and then turned to face her again. "Let's withdraw for a moment." he said, right in her ear. Turning to the priest, he spoke low enough to be audible by just him. "The jill is feeling that a change of clothes would do her some good. She's feeling a little hot in this voluminous dress, so we're going to get her situated before we join the reception... no sense in ruining the dress after all with the cake." he stated, giving the priest a wink.
He led her down from the altar, and toward a door in the back that led to the various rooms throughout the cathedral. He suddenly felt very light and almost manic as he led her into the stone corridors and tried to locate the room that was set aside for her personal effects. HIs heart was skipping as he stumbled a little, and located the correct door.
"Ah... here we are. I left orders on the ship for your personal effects to be brought here post-haste. I just gave him the excuse that you wanted to change... and if you don't, that's fine with me. We WILL probably have to show up at the reception at some point though." he said, smiling. "I just felt like you could benefit from being away from the crowd for a moment."
He paused, and then decided to simply go for it. He leaned in, and kissed her again, but this time drank in her lips a bit more deeply. He rubbed her cheek fur, caressing it in a circular pattern before he drew back. Looking right into her good eye, he sighed a little. "I love you, Priscilla." once again, he wasn't sure if the words were true or not, but he most certainly felt SOMETHING there, and it showed in his voice. He felt closer to her now than he'd ever felt before, as if his heart was struggling to join up with hers, and try as he might, it was quite difficult to fight.
Reaching over to open her door for her, the swinging wooden obstacle moved back to reveal her chests and a small room with a mirror and sunlight streaming in from a shaft cut far up in the ceiling. "If you need some time... go ahead and take it." he said, rubbing her arms a bit now. "I can stay by your side if you're in pain as well." He wanted to ask her if she wanted his last name, or she wanted him to take hers. He'd get to that... at some point. Just not now.
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Post by spender on Aug 11, 2011 2:11:05 GMT -5
"I love you, Priscilla."
"I know," she said. Yet she didn't smile, or invite any warmth into her mannerisms. Something dark lurked in her eye. She was troubled.
Steep stared blankly at her chests. Was that to be it, then? All that trouble, all that frustration, all that expense, for a brief jaunt between some pews and a pose at the podium? She would never wear the dress again—no need, no occasion important and personal enough. It could be her daughter's dress, if such a thing could be, but would it even be in style then?
She decided then to wear the pants off this dress. The priest could believe it was a moment of weakness; she could live with that. What her father, or Saumarez's mother, would think of the two whisking off so soon would be another issue to tackle when it came time to.
"I suppose..." she began, and halted awkwardly. She wrapped her paws around his wrists, stopping him from brushing her arms anymore. "I could do with a change of boots, if it's dancing you want later, and your footpaws you want use of afterwards... There must be alcohol being served, and I will be having as much as is polite before I even consider a conversation or an invitation to dance. But... I don't think I need to change." And just like that, a switch was thrown. A glow came about her cheeks, lifting her whiskers. "I've only just become the me I'll be for the rest of my life, after all."
The door slammed shut behind Saumarez, kicked by Steep's boot. Then she shoved him against it—and herself against he.
"Although maybe," she wheezed, "I could shed a layer or two."
She gave no chance for that, however, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him too close for either to discard so much as a spare button from their pocket. He could not protest—perhaps could not even breathe. Steep found this of herself after a minute or two, and broke the kiss off only long enough to gasp, lick the tip of his nose, and dive at him again, the weight of her causing him to sink to the floor.
This was only stopped by a polite rapping at the door, and Roland Steep's voice quavering through the quivering timbers:
"Er, Priscilla, are you still in there? It's your father. Of course. Jis Saumarez and I would like a word with you, if you are decent. In your own time, of course."
Steep stopped squirming long enough to give Saumarez a bit of actual eye contact, then she began shaking in silent laughter.
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 11, 2011 21:16:53 GMT -5
They somehow had gone into her room, and he couldn't remember walking in, but perhaps he was just so giddy that it didn't matter. It was as if he'd gotten into the wine already, and he was very light headed. She was definitely darker though, and he was frowning in thought, wondering what it was he could do to help. Boots, he could do that.
But then... she mentioned she was changed, and was the new her. The door was kicked behind him, but before he could so much as blink, he was shoved back against it, and she was up against him. Was she fainting? Seizing? Oh... OH! Neither of the above.
She literally stole his breath right from his lungs, her lips mashing against his as he struggled to breathe, but he most definitely kissed her back, closing his eyes and holding her arms, though not of course rubbing them anymore. Breaking the kiss, he gasped in, sucking a grateful gulp down before she was at it again, and he once again kissed her back, though this time she was pushing him down, and he could feel the weight.
Not resisting, he let himself slide, being careful not to knock his head on anything as he did so. He was already feeling rather hot, and though the church was probably not the best of locations to choose from, he no longer cared. He was being guided by forces greater than himself at this point... and then came the knock on the door.
He tensed up, and then relaxed a bit as he heard it was only her father. But wait... his MOTHER was out there too? Why? Motioning for her to roll off of him, she obliged (looking like a great snowball as she did so with that dress), and he quickly got to his paws, smoothing his uniform out as best he could and moving over to the door. He looked at her to ask if he should get it. She nodded, and he opened it a tad. "Ahem... yes?" he asked. "She's just inside." he motioned with his paw, widening the door now, his voice a bit gravely.
His mother almost pushed past him to look the wife over however, and gushed a little. "Well, you ARE rather the fine jill! Much better than my third son did! I'd say that James is now the luckiest weasel in the family! Of course the eye isn't as big a deal as you might think." she said, giving her son a wink, to which he puffed his chest out with an inhale, and then let it all out.
"Come to share some cigars." Roland was saying. "Now that the union is official. Didn't think she'd EVER take a mate, but I'm happy to say that day has come to an end." he held one out for Saumarez, who accepted it, albeit hesitantly.
"I was simply talking with her. We were discussing some future things, and trying to decide if it would be better to change or not for the reception." He paused to clench the cigar in between his teeth so Roland could light it. "I suppose if you have official business with your daughter though..." he said, puffing on it to get it nice and hot. "Feel free to do so." Terrible shame though... the interruption was literally the worst he'd ever had in his life that he could remember. Just as the moment was taking him... and he had been READY too. It probably wouldn't be the last time... but he couldn't wait until they could simply retire to his house, and be gone from all of... this. It was stifling. The adrenaline rush he'd gotten was starting to fade... and that was a rather painful thing.
"Well Priscilla, what did we end up deciding on?" her new husband asked, looking over at her. "Your wedding dress, or your uniform? Or was it that radiant blue one you brought?" he asked, smiling subtly at her. "Oh and I hope the carriage will be ready. Did you see to my house being made up? I haven't been there in several months after all, so I just want to make sure it's been properly dusted and taken care of." He told his mother, who gave him a nod that it had been. Puffing again, he blew some blue smoke rings, and gazed at his wife right through the center of them, affection clearly evident on his features to her, though it was more cleverly masked to the rest of the room, as it was mostly in his eyes, and a slight upturning of the left side of his mouth.
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Post by spender on Aug 26, 2011 14:38:20 GMT -5
Steep wasn't one to blush, but there was certainly a pink tinge to her fuzzy white cheeks. To have her eye commented on before her scab was a new one. She did her best to curtsy for Mrs. Saumarez--a move made rather difficult by her army boots and the fact that the last time she could remember curtsying, she had been thirteen...
"Th-thank you," she said. Further words escaped her. Thankfully, her father stuck a cigar in her face shortly after that.
She reached out for it, and he withdrew his paw with a hearty laugh. Her face was stone. Still shaking, Roland popped the cigar between her lips, just under her nose, where it fitted perfectly between her incisors.
"Forgive me, Priscilla," he said (in Ferlusanian) as he lit it for her. "I don't know what's come over me! I've been hitting the bottle a little on the way over. There, now you finish that before you attend the reception. I don't think it is proper for a bride to be puffing away at these things in company."
Steep sucked in, cross at first, but then grinned back. Her father deserved this day as much as she did, if not more.
"The wedding dress," she answered to Saumarez. "It is too fine a thing to let be seen for so little a time. I am sure I will have many other occasions to wear my other things."
She narrowed her eye at Saumarez, but let her smile stay for him as well. Smoke rings--the show off! She'd never had the patience for them, despite her experience. (Laying in a bath, she could take a cigar out of a box, pop it in her mouth and light it with just her left footpaw. This was not something she intended to declare in polite company, but was something she intended to demonstrate in the evenings to come.)
"A wise decision," Roland was saying. "But how soon shall you be retiring? There is a lovely spread prepared, and I should like to sit down and hear firstpaw of what occurred this afternoon, off the coast. And, I am sure, so shall many others."
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Post by Ladorak on Aug 26, 2011 23:53:11 GMT -5
"Oh... well sir." Saumarez said, shifting his eyes over to Roland. "Wasn't even my most impressive feat." he half joked. "I was knighted for capturing a frigate back in October of last year, in fact. How time really flies, it seems." he commented, blowing off some smoke. "Had to pull off a rather complicated maneuver, but I managed it. This one was a skillful use of... tactical withdrawal." he said, pausing a moment to consider it.
"Drew their attention to me, made it look as if I was going to run myself onto the rocks, and then darted into a rather dangerous channel to avoid the pursuit. Oh, and I was also at the Battle of the Saintes, though of course, barely received any recognition for it. Took my ship right under the stern of the three decker Rosferian flagship and kept up a steady fire there for most of the combat. Of course... that wasn't my first fleet action. That honor goes to the Battle of Dogger Bank, against Mordenz." he outlined a rough map of his career for his father in law, as it seemed the old soldier was at least interested in that type of thing.
"Oh... and speaking of three deckers, I don't suppose your daughter's dowry includes any of those nice Ferlusanian three deckers does it?" he asked, this time fully joking, and laughing as he did so. "Hahah... don't worry... I don't need one of those... yet. I think Priscilla is just perfect." he said, looking back over at her now. Though now that he thought about it... obtaining the Purisima Concepcion might be nice... as it was where they had first bonded in a way, after all.
"As for retire... I hope you don't mean from the Navy." he replied, joking again. "From the reception... I haven't the foggiest. I don't intend to linger too long." he said, still feeling hot from what Priscilla had attempted earlier. "We'll go in, make the rounds, and then be off to the good old house I suppose... and maybe think about getting one of our own." he said, trailing off as he thought about it.
"Well... off to the reception we go, then?" he asked, looking about him, but lingering of course on his wife.
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Post by spender on Sept 6, 2011 9:07:27 GMT -5
"I shall inquire," Roland said, apparently in all seriousness. "Priscilla inherited quite a number of things from her mother upon her departure. It slips my mind what is included, but there may indeed be a vessel amongst them. I am sure Priscilla, or perhaps one of our family's lawyers, will know for certain."
"I am feeling a little peckish," Steep announced quietly.
Her original goal was still in effect: drink as much as she could get her paws on and feign some sort of dramatic faint. It would have to be a good one, though, not one of those wimpy swoons. That was not the kind of jill she wanted to pretend to be.
No; she would choke on something, or be pushed into a cake... something where the blame could be applied to anyone but her, and, preferably, Saumarez. But it couldn't be too dramatic! Oh no. She wanted to go to the house, not the hospital. Doctors... ugh!
"Then let us be on our way," Roland said, looping his arm around his daughter's to tug her away like some bossy teapot. "Sir Saumarez, your tales intrigue me! Please, let us include an audience. I would very much like more beasts to know of my Priscilla's dashing new husband!" The old weasel barked a laugh.
Steep found herself uninterested (for the time being) in talking about naval battles, and instead turned to face Saumarez.
"What do you mean, getting one of our own? Don't you already have the one? It was being dusted..." Steep's muzzle flattened in consternation. By the sound of things, it was a house unused, being cleaned especially for his return. But perhaps he'd simply meant his rooms... In which case, would his family be occupying the other spaces? Would they invite her father to some guest bedroom--possibly right next to theirs? The idea of it all quite ruined her earlier mood.
"Hah," Roland butted in again, "If you are in possession of a house already, dear boy, don't be too hasty! I am aging well, but aging all the same. You have seen our Crittenden manor, as I recall? It shall be yours. I will see to it!"
They arrived at the reception then, and Steep disengaged from her father and magnetized towards the wine. She felt a sudden and rather odd longing to cuddle Pip and curl up in a corner in her undergarments, with a big woolly blanket around them both. Her head throbbed with anticipation. She smiled nonetheless, against the tide of stares from everyone in the room; such fanciful desires she had!
"James, could you fetch me a plate of cake and some meats? I am not feeling quite so peckish as I am... famished. I don't believe I have eaten since early this morning, and not much at that... The nerves, you see..."
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Post by Ladorak on Sept 7, 2011 9:39:10 GMT -5
Saumarez blinked at the mention of a possible vessel being in the dowry, though he doubted that. Well in all fairness... it probably WAS a vessel of some sorts, but not a government property warship. Ah well... he could easily make do with a simple yacht of some type. Fugate had one after all... why shouldn't he? The stoat wasn't even a Knight!
And speaking of Knights... "Ah." he said, when Roland addressed him as "Sir Saumarez." "It's actually Sir James... I am NOT nobility, my good sir." he said with a chuckle. "Knights in our country are addressed with a Sir and then their first name, though it may be different in Ferlusan. Now if I were of a noble title, I'd be addressed as Lord Saumarez, or my peerage title Saumarez, or yes, Sir Saumarez, but as I do not possess any such landed title in Welkin, it is Sir James." he explained with a smile.
"Now... just because I am not nobility yet, doesn't mean I don't intend to shoot for that!" he added, his chuckle becoming a laugh. "I shall do everything in my power to attain it in fact, in order to at least give your daughter a noble husband." He wasn't of course sure if Steep even WANTED him as a noble, but figured it couldn't hurt to try. He performed his actions in combat without the expectation of achieving recognition, as far too frequently he'd been left out in the dust, and unlike Ladorak, who lusted after it, he was content with simply doing his duty. If that entailed going above and beyond his call of duty, then so be it.
"Ahhh yes... my tales and exploits." He said, a bit more of a neutral tone pervading now. "I suppose I can relate the capture of the Rosferian frigate Reunion that I took last year in October... and which gained me my Knighthood in the first place. It was quite the action... but first... your daughter needs some food." he said, smiling over at her.
"Cake and meats it is! I shall be right back..." and here he lowered his voice, "Hopefully you have a plan to get us out of here soon, and yes. I DO have a house." he explained. "A private one." here his tones were softer. "Though I was referring to a larger one... you know... for a family?" he hinted, winking at her as he brought her in for a kiss. He wasn't sure how he felt about receiving her large manor, as he couldn't say how often he'd be staying in Ferlusan... but why turn such a thing down? It would seem downright rude (or maybe even elitist!), wouldn't it?
His plans were to get one on the mainland, or maybe even a castle, if he got a title to his name. "Well then... I shall return presently." he said, squeezing her paw before he moved over to the buffet table. Picking up the silver knife in his paws, he stood at the head of the cake, and ceremoniously began to cut into it, slicing down in that first memorable stroke.
Taking the wedge server and pulling her slice carefully onto a plate, he served himself next, and then went over to the meats section. Pepperoni from Delorn! Fabulous! It would have a bit of a tang to it, but he absolutely loved Delornish pepperoni! Pulling a chunk of them onto his plate, he then put some on Steep's dish, as well as a few assorted meats. He put some cheese wedges on his own, enough to cover both of them in case she wanted any, and got some crackers as well.
"Meats, cheese, crackers, and cake!" he exclaimed, moving back up to her. "Now, the pepperoni is from Delorn... and hence, it's a little spicy, but VERY good! I also got salami, ham, and... some other stuff." he said, squinting down at the plates with uncertainty, hoping there wasn't any duck in there, though it looked more like chicken to him. Duck was generally dark meat, and this was rather white. He raised his plate, and "toasted" her own, clinking against it in a playful fashion. "To us!" he cried, and set to work, his fork digging into the cake, and his claws spearing various meats as he plucked them right off his paw. It may have been questionable table manners, but he didn't care, as he was all about ignoring this reception for the most part if he could.
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Post by spender on Sept 24, 2011 7:11:33 GMT -5
As Saumarez cut the cake and menaced the meats and other snacks with a similar fate, Steep sidled off to liberate some booze from the many bottles offered.
She felt rather lost, and then realised that it was probably because everybeast was speaking Welkin Common. She was just barely tolerating Saumarez using it, and more or less drowned out her father's butchery of the language (she could see him over in the corner, gesturing madly at a slice of cheese, while Mrs. Saumarez covered her mouth with a polite paw); but she was in no way inclined to translate every little conversation going on around her.
She would have traded half a bottle of whatever she was currently chugging to have some beasts she knew attending--to see Devonshire's ridiculous impersonations, or Peskers' bumbling attempts at small talk. She wanted her soldiers. Instead she had some Ferlusan brass whose names she barely cared to remember, all of them bunched up and giving her the stink-eye until they caught her looking and raised their glasses in greeting, suddenly all smiles.
There was a ferret and some various rodents gossiping near the drinks. Steep lowered her bottle, licked her whiskers openly, and reached for another one.
A voice behind her said:
"Mrs, erm, Saumarez, surely you would like a glass?"
Assuming they were speaking to her husband's mother, Steep ignored it, working the cork out with her teeth. This caught the attention of the gossiping group. Steep stared at them and suckled at the bottle. The question was repeated behind her. The group stared back.
Suddenly, the ferret chuckled.
"Try in Ferlusanian, sir," he called to the servant. Turning back to his pals, he went on chattering. "As I was saying, and it seems I am proven correct, she may have the figure, but can't quite seem to manage the figuring, eh? A princess, I know not what of; a boorish creature by all evidence. One can forgive the patch, but one must worry at the scar, and see now she lacks the education to understand her own husband's tongue. I would consider James an unlucky fellow in this case, but then again... it would seem that he ought to know this of her, and so one must wonder just what the dress is hiding from our eyes!" Grinning, he elbowed a squirrel, who, not being a mustelid, only shrugged half-heartedly.
"Pray tell," Steep interrupted in Ferlusanian, "Can you speak any language other than Common? It is very rude."
The ferret looked up at her, frowning sadly. "I'm sorry, my dear, we can't understand a word you're saying."
"Oh, good," Steep said. "So you won't mind when I call you a--"
While most of the group stared politely, a male mouse off to the side began to blush furiously and made excuses to leave. Steep ignored him, and continued until she was out of verbs. Thankfully, Saumarez managed to return at that moment.
"Changed my mind," she whispered to him. "There isn't enough rum in the world to keep me in this room. See about wrapping these up to take home, would you? And that bottle of absinthe--I haven't seen that make before. And the cake, I like cake. Make sure you get some cake sent to the house... or anything with cream, really. And make sure there is a carriage for us waiting, with a change of clothes for me--oh, and Pip! I've got a plan."
She pecked him on the cheek and whisked a slice of pepperoni from her plate, but that was all. Tapping the drink-server on the shoulder, she gestured to his empty glasses and the bottle she was holding, and called him a spider-whiskered daughter of a leprous lemur. He smiled and filled two glasses for her, which she carried off towards the smarmy ferret and his cronies.
"Good evening, feed-sack," she beamed. "I've brought you some wine--I hope you've brought a change of trousers! Sorry for the dress, father... Whoop!"
It wasn't hard to trip while wearing army boots and a wedding dress; the trick until now had mainly been not tripping.
One-eyed though she was, her judgment of distance was impeccable. The wine arced gracefully, one cup towards the ferret's bottom half, and one straight into her own face (that she may lick it clean later; and spare her dress as much as possible.) She struck out a paw and latched onto a tablecloth for support, which only sent a tray or two of olives and fruits flying over her head.
Steep stayed on the floor for a while, until she found the courage to roll over and see the damage. Which she immediately began to laugh at.
"I think the lady has had a bit too much to drink," the ferret said weakly. "Can somebeast lend a paw..."
"Good Lord, Priscilla," Roland muttered, burying his head in his paw.
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