Liseli
It had seemed like days. Days since Liseli came to the festival, but here he was yet again. Drawn in to the life swirling around the place, Liseli had found himself spending another nights coming back to the festival grounds. Somehow he he felt he still hadn’t managed to see all of the things the festival had to offer. Though he’d met a few other equines, fascinating in themselves, he still managed to spot the occasional odd individual.
The festival was an overwhelming flux of stimulation to Liseli’s previously lonesome existence. This is not to say that he ever felt lonely, he was content on his own, but the festival gave him a type of indulgence to his silent curiosity. The things to see the things to do, but he partook in little felling that he best not shake his fly-on-the-wall existence all too much. The creatures around him from all walks of life coming together for a moments peace and some memories best left unsaid the next day. Liseli did not judge them, in fact he was intrigued. Instead of outright ease-dropping, he’d listen to the tid-bits of stories echoing off of the tents and the various streets surfaces before continuing the stories in his own mind. The possibilities were endless.
Liseli was lost in his most recent story of a mage who’d climbed to the heights of Veneror Peak to complete some worship he’d been seeking. That is all he heard from the mage himself, before Liseli continued on developing the story in to his own. He climbed to the highest peaks to offer the roses he’d meant to give to his lover. Why he was there? Oh because he’d missed his lovers birth celebration and he was begging the god for forgiveness. Liselis face twisted in to his shy slime that he usually did every time he made himself laugh. He knew that that most likely isn’t what happened, but it was a good starting point for a little humor.
It had been sometime wandering about the festival before Liseli happened upon a rather large tent, adored on the inside with heavy sewn red tapestries of intricate designs. There was a bar to the back with a tender who seemed oddly familiar to him, but he paid little mind. What he was interested in was the prospect of a place to sit. The couched and coffee-table like things filled the tent. Here and there equines gathered together, it wasn’t as loud in here and the slight ache in his legs pushed him in to the tent. Unlike the rest of the festival the lanterns around the top of the tent seemed enchanted, flames bright enough to see but tinted glass gave them a nice ambiance.
Taking a table near the far back corner Liseli settled on to a deep emerald green type of couch. After adjusting his rather large wings and making sure his antlers didn’t hit anything, the cushions seemed to consume the part of his body in contact with it. This was perhaps the softest material Liseli had ever felt and it was nice. As Liseli settled a bit he noticed a piece of literature on the table before him, he glanced around briefly, checking to see if the owner was in attendance. He reached his head forward towards the piece adjusting the smaller lanter next to him for a bit more light so he could see. The purple from the last urns glass made the reflections on his copper coat shine particularly bring for such a semi-dim room.
He began reading quietly lost in his mind as he usually was. It was like his observations in the forest, just in very different environment.
