Lassiël poured another glass of wine for her friend and motioned toward the fox.
'We have an audience, it seems!'
She took a small wreath of niphredil from round her brow and twisted it into a smaller circlet. Placing it at a rakish angle on the fox's head, she stepped back and regarded her handiwork.
'Ah! Now my bold Reynardine, you are indeed costumed for the party!' She smiled at him impishly. 'Do you drink, sirrah? May I offer you some spirits?'
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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