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Fëa reappeared at this time accompanied by one too many diacritics. "Shoo," she warned, scolding it like a bad puppy. "You're a pain in the bum. You are not welcome here. You see this doorway? You shall not pass it." It hovered on the edges of the party, watching with a sad look upon it's very small and unbrowlike brow.
Fea moved through the crowd with remarkably more ease, meaning to track down TGWBS. She found him hovering near what was left of Fordim. She hesitated for a split second and remembered that her nose was stuffy due to that Mordor-assignèd bee that stung her on her way to class yesterday. Fea could not smell much, so she made her way over. She stopped short, realizing that smelling perfume is remarkably less offensive and powerful than getting a full facefull of rotting Fordim. Apparently not being able to smell doesn't affect things at the 'Downs.
She continued, hoping that Fordim did not notice her pause. She had no desire to offend the resident pollster. It would never do to wake up to discover a poll entitled Who Thinks Fea's Insane? a) I do, b) I don't, c) other _______.
"Tuh-GHiB-Short, I forgot to ask you... were there any crebain at the zoo the other day? Or oliphaunts? Fordim, it is wonderful to see you, although I must say... you look a little worse for the wear. Is there anything I can do to um... help?" She fervently hoped he said no... the rotting flesh was beginning to creep her out... but good manners dictated asking. After all, t'was not as if she could pretend he looked as buff, studly, and generally Harrison Ford-like as usual.
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