Diarmuid had nothing against the odd festival. He liked the cheer they sparked in people, and the peace they (hopefully) fostered. It was without thinking long that he had decided to accompany the group of Dusk Courtiers to Delumine- he had passed through the land briefly, without seeing it's inhabitants, before being found in the swamp by Israfel. Speaking of, the fire-eyed warrior's joy was charming, and made her seem younger than in all the other time he'd spent with her. It was as if she had siezed some scrap of innocence not yet lost to her and drew it on today like a veil, viewing the world with childlike delight.
All the same, as they approached Diarmuid's pace slowed until he fell to the back of the group, lingering as they moved forward towards the festival proper. There were so many people. He could smell them, beneath the scent of spiced drink and food. His remaining ear flicked nervously, the only true indicator of his mood. Otherwise his posture was simply rigid, the attitude of a soldier. His neck arched, head turned slighty to the side to observe the courtyard with his good eye. There was no way to remain apart in this milling, joyful herd.
Even in the past, when he had been at home in his own land among his own people, he had avoided social events. He had lingered on the edges, watchign and trying to avoid being wrapped in. The press of strangers made him feel as though he didn't belong, regardless of his station or position.
Now was no different. Compound that with a sudden acute awareness of his own body, of the scars that embossed his hide with their fractal curves. So he tried to side step awkwardly, shifting away from Israfel's gaze as she looked back and posed her question to the little group that had gathered with her. Instead his eye was already questing for somewhere he could stay out of the way and watch from the security of solitude.
@Israfel @Isorath
