Willfur


The party is subdued, only a low, buzzing murmur of dropped voices keeping the castle from total silence. Small clusters of faces peek out apprehensively from curtained alcoves and darkened corners of rooms whenever someone passes by, their eyes questioning, accusing. There's an air of confusion, and Willfur realizes that he's not the only one left wondering just what the hell is going on here.

He tries to smile reassuringly to those he passes, but it only makes them more desperate for answers and despite his newly given authority, the mule has nothing to offer in answer, no more information or insight than anyone else here. Some are panicked by that, others skeptical, as if they think he'd withhold something - he, the least deceptive of them all - and so he hurries on, apologizing over hunched shoulders, leaving the castle, rushing down the entrance steps and ducking beneath the stonework arches that lead into the garden. 

Outside, the air is thinner, less claustrophobic. The scent of orchids and honeysuckle replace sweat and adrenaline, and the eyes that stare back at him from between the hedgerows are more relaxed, maybe not yet aware of the turmoil unfolding inside. Willfur breathes deep, idly circling statues and miniature fruit orchards before turning into one of the larger meadows. A wide area of spongey moss has been packed down to make a dancefloor here, its edges ringed with softly glowing lanterns and tiny snowdrop blossoms. His long, long ears flick forward for the first time all night.

There are plenty of other horses here, but none of them look even remotely interested in dancing. Most of them are huddled close in what appear to be private conversations, but just when he starts to lose hope of doing anything enjoyable or useful tonight, he spots a slender woman sitting by herself, head turned slightly away. Not wanting to startle or interrupt her thoughts, he lets his hooves fall heavily as he approaches - not that it takes much effort.

"Hello, Miss. I'm Willfur." He smiles, bowing low and touching one knee to the ground in a comically elaborate gesture. "I have four left feet and have been in a committed relationship with gravity since my fourth birthday, but if you don't mind taking the lead, I'd treasure an opportunity to dance with you." Quietly, conspiratorially, he adds, "I think this place could use a little livening up, don't you?"


"talk talk talk"
@Willoughby