02.19.09 - Flirting For Drinks

Location: A Brewer's Village

Characters Involved: Darcy, Harper, Sivaine, Magramba, Belliger

You never know what you'll get with a brewer's village. It's definitely the wrong season for a grape-stomping competition or Vineyard Virgin contest, but it's obvious there's /something/ going on. The largest pub is right smack in the middle of the town and it is /packed/ when they enter, with Darcy sort of halfway dragging Harper by the wrist. It's also just around midday, so that really says something. Streamers are strung and there's music and who knows what other sort of festivities - mostly inside because the weather is still kind of unpredictable. The doe lets go of her poor tag-along and crosses her arms, looking almost predatory as she surveys the event. "... brilliant." She is /grinning/.

Harper is not. But hey, he at least doesn't smell like a fish anymore! He lingers just inside the door, looking a little uncertain at the size of the crowd.

Darcy takes a few steps in, prepared to elbow and shove her way through the crowd. "See! Our luck has changed, Harp! .. Harp?" She turns, eyes him. "Why do you look so .. scared?"

Harper's expression clears. He gives Darcy a look. "I'm not scared."

He just doesn't like crowds, what!

Sivaine is right there with Harper, ears splayed back and shoulders slightly hunched. Large crowds don't sit well with her, for sure, and large crowds with alcohol even less so.

Darcy gestures him over. "Well come /on/ then. It's not as squished once you get past the bar."

Harper glances around uncertainly. "Couldn't we just... uh... sit outside?"

Darcy lifts her brows. One hand extends, and her fingers hook in a 'come hither' motion. "How do you expect to get a drink if you do that?"

"I'm not thirsty?" Harp glances to the side at Siv. His shoulders sag a little bit.

"The point was supplies, not drinks," Sivaine points out, looking. Well. Uncomfortable. But anyone would be with an accordion solo like that going on. "Don't barter when tipsy?"

Darcy scowls. "If you're so determined to not enjoy yourself, then just leave. But it'll be /fun/. I promise."

It /is/ kind of an assault on the ears. Harper takes a tentative step forward, though, with a shrug given to Sivaine. "You want some water or something?" he asks her.

One of the beasts in the large crowd in the pub is a shrew, though to say he's in the crowd is kind of a misstatement. He's sort of on the edges, having a seat and a drink, and it's not that he's not enjoying himself (he's smiling rather contently), but he's not exactly shouting and jigging like the lot of them. He's also having some conversation, idly chatting with a squirrel and having a generally good time in the company of all the brewers and their guests.

There's a very busy bar with several bartenders, all of which have their paws full. But, as good bartenders are, they never seem in over their heads, just weaving through the customers, memorizing orders at a time as they fulfill them.

"It's just a pub, Harp, it's fairly harmless," Darcy points out, and gives him an encouraging kind of smile. "We cooould. Get a round or two, then go wander outside and see the sights? Something-something? Come on. I fully intend to flirt my way to several free drinks." She aims for the bar.

Sivaine eyes the whole setup doubtfully. "Maybe." It's a very tentative maybe, very close to a 'no.' "Business as an Abbey Brother first? Before we're drunk? And by 'we' I mean you two."

Harper's ears flatten at Sivaine's words. "I already arranged for the supplies, Siv. This morning. And I don't intend t'be drunk."

Darcy can be rather charming when there's something in it for her. She slips into a stool when someone gets up, perched there with her elbows on the bar, leaning over and flagging down the nearest tender. "Just water for me, doll, I don't have any coin." She says it in a sort of drawling tone while shooting a smile at a squirrel next to her, and lifts one brow a little, attention swinging to him. "Why hey there.. I'm Darcy."

"Oh, you did?" Sivaine tilts her head to the side slightly, glancing at a raucous otter who weaves past singing a rather interesting song. Between verses he quaffs from a foaming tankard, which is like drinking but you spill more. "Well, never mind then. But I'll be outside." She glances at the buck, angling toward the door. "Rather not disturb things."

Harper considers Sivaine curiously a moment. His lips part, as if to say something, but doesn't. He just nods.

"Comin' right up." The tender has to break his routine to get the water, away from the big bottles, kegs, tankards of ale, beer, cider... And to the supply of water. Not to worry, he's very good, and doesn't miss a beat, near-slamming the water down in front of Darcy, heading on down the bar to fill other orders.

"Ooooh no you won't!" And Sivaine has an arm slung around her shoulders, by a kind of chubby but jolly-looking hedgehog holding a frothing mug in his other hand. "Not one for the boozin', eh? Even so, stay, enjoy y'self!"

Apparently the shrew and the squirrel have finished their conversation, because the squirrel's up and gone. Replaced by an otter, though, who the shrew seems to know well enough to jump right into conversation with. Annnnd well. Apparently the otter's fairly persuasive, 'cause soon the shrew is rolling his eyes and getting out of his chair, frothed mug in tow as he heads towards the music.

And chat chat chat go Darcy and the squirrel, smiling back and forth, friendly and chuckling and oh her drink's here. She doesn't pay attention. Because he's offered to buy her an /actual/ drink and Darcy somehow raises this offer into an entire bottle. "You know I have /never/ had anything stronger than wine.." She is so lying. The guy buys her a bottle of scotch.

"Yes I will? What?" Sivaine shrinks into her cloak, possibly out of self-defense against the paired threats of spikes and spirits. "Look, I'm not really-" Gah. She glances toward the bar again - lively, loud, bordering on well-ordered chaos in some spots and definitely a communal, convivial atmosphere. Eegh.

Harper has lost all steam. Ack! He watches the display going on all about and juuuuust. Shoves his paws in his pockets. Erk.

"Aw c'mon," the hedgehog chortles, gesturing with his mug at the crowd. "You don't have to drink to have fun, right? Look, lookit, there's going to be dancing soon 'nough!" It's kind of questionable how tipsy he is. "Pretty girl like you, reckon you can find a partner!"

Harper breathes a sigh out through his nose. With a final look around - and a glance at Siv and her plight - he turns, making a beeline for a small booth in the corner. He slides into it. Hunkers into it, really.

Darcy pecks her booze-buyer on the cheek, takes up her bottle and mug-of-water, and sliiides off the stool. She aims back through the crowd looking oh so pleased with herself. She makes it back to the vicinity of the doorway with her prize. ".. okay. Where'd he just go?" she asks Sivaine, of Harper.

"I. That's. Kind of you, but. I don't dance." Sivaine draws a paw protectively over her middle with a strained smile. Grimace. The corners of her mouth pull back, at least. When Darcy comes over the mouse throws her friend a look that's equal parts relief and dread. She can get her out of this, but there's the question of what she'll get her /into./ "Harper? You know, I'll go see." With a little nod, she tries to slip into the crowd.

The shrew's looking like /he's/ the one that's gonna start the next jig, and as the music flares up, so does the shrew, his forepaws staying still around his hips while his legs hop and bend and knock on the floor beneath him. There's a rumble of a cheer in the crowd as others start joining in, the oompah oompah beat of the band building up a middle tempo.

Darcy gulps down the water as she heads Sivaine's way. It'll help stave off the drunk. She fills the mug with scotch and passes this to Sivaine. "Yeah, will you .. find him. Wherever he is. Give him that. Hello handsome!" She grins amiably at the hedgehod, detaches him from Sivaine, and links her arm through his. "How's about you introduce me to the who's-who 'round here, hmmm?"

The door to the pub literally explodes inward, admitting a very grinny and triumphant squirrel. The reason for the rowdy entrance, it seems, is the huge bundle slung on his back. After a few failed entry attempts, Magramba lets the sack fall to the floor and drags it in behind him. His eyes skim across the crowd, ears alternating between perked for his friends and pinned from the noise.

Harper is just kind of sitting there! Hunkered! His eyes have closed and he leans back, sliding down a little bit in his seat. He rubs one paw at his face.

"Er." But Sivaine will accept a mug of scotch in return for relieved from hops-happy hedgehogs, though she holds it like she expects to get drunk just from the fumes. Then again, it's a Darcy drink; that could be a fair assumption. She's a patch of blue halfway through the crowd when the door bangs open and ignores it except to elbow past a pair of giggling squirrelmaids. By the set of her ears, she is in no-man's-land, but Harper isn't too hard to find - if he feels the same way about the atmosphere (and he seems to) she just has to head for the quietest, darkest corner. So she does, avoiding eye contact.

So the hedgehog starts pointing and listing off names, yammering off about the different brewer families in the village, all sorts of little details Darcy can't keep track of. There's even a few hares, and a fairly drunk-looking, grinning buck is gestured at. "/He/ you should meet, yeah, missy?" the hedgehog chuckles good-naturedly, nudging at her ribs with his elbow. "Oh, oh, and Belliger, he's a funny one!" Darcy cuts him off because of Magramba's entrance. "Just a minute. Mag! Hey Mag!" She waves at him, going up on her tiptoes. "Over heeeeere Mag!" She's already drinking, yes she is.

Belliger's ears aren't burning or anything, he's just jumping and hopping in the midst of a group of other jumpers and hoppers, having a good old time. The music's slowly picking up pace, though it's not quite at blister yet.

Harper is indeed in that corner! He's managed to rangle himself a mug of water, at least, and nurses at it tentatively. He's hunched around it.

"Well that makes things easy." Magramba begins elbowing his way through the crowd, making for Darcy, happily shoving partiers aside to make room for The Sack. "Darcy! I've got all the good stuff Rat-face Vole-boy left behind!"

Darcy's ears are stuck up, a big ol' bottle of scotch cradled in the crook of one arm, hand around the neck of it. "Oh, oh you /did/ did you! You know it's about /time/ you caught up, Mag! Maaag-ram-ba. Heh! So what'd you find, huh!"

/Sanctuary./ Sivaine slides in beside Harper, leaning not so much towards the buck as /away/ from everything going on out there. She slides the mug across the table and nudges it toward the far corner, by the wall. Away, vile spirit. "There's going to be dancing in a minute," she says the same way one would announce the apocalypse, eyeing the merrymaking with serious distrust. She resembles nothing so much as a tropical fish hiding in a coral reef.

Harper's ears twitch. He glances to the side at the rather close mousemaid. Quirks a brow. He eyes the drink but doesn't take it. "Is there," Harper replies tonelessly.

"I did, indeed." Magramba's voice has risen to be heard above the music and crowd, and he gives a polite shove to a swaying otter who's getting too close to The Loot. The sack itself is some sort of curtain or decorative wall-hanging, wrapped around an uneven mass and secured with a tassled braid. He roots in it. And produces a set of cookware. Pots and things. "Well, this, first of all."

Darcy bounces on the balls of her feet and kind of sways. "Okay okay I mean anything /good/. Good. I don't care about pots and spoons, Mag-doll, /really/ I don't.." She's impatient but in good humor.

The pace of the music is getting frenetic, and the noise is becoming louder. The amount of alcohol spilled onto the floor increases by a little bit as well, in correspondence with that. As all manner of dancers try to keep up with the dance, some start falling over on each other, causing much laughter, and sometimes annoyance, but the band keeps on playing, percussion carrying the tune along with the slowly increasing tempo.

"More dancing," Sivaine amends, ears laid back. She's close, but not touching - very definitely not - and way her shoulders are hunched and her fingers are arched over the surface of the table are pretty indicative. As the music starts gearing up the mouse pulls her hood over her ears, which seems to relax her a bit. She straightens up and scoots back, leaning on her elbows. "Darcy wanted me to find you, but she never said to bring you back."

"Good," is all Harper says at first. And then. "Siv, you aren't enjoying this at all, are you?" Pause. "I mean. Not /this/. The trip."

The set goes back in the sack. "Well..." Magramba murmurs, reaching down to the bottom, where the largest shape is. "I got this specifically for you..." With a small grin, and a long tug, the squirrel pulls a thick, cushy couch cushion from the depths of the sack. It's about the size of Darcy. "...to sleep on in the woods."

Darcy's jaw /drops/. She just stares at the cushion, then up at Magramba. "Ohmybloody/mother/ you didn't!" It's a good thing she drank some of the scotch already because it would slosh out otherwise. She /flings/ her arms around the squirrel's neck, making a little jumping motion to accomplish this. "Thankyouthankyou!! /Thannnk/ yooou!"

Sivaine's ears twitch beneath the thick fabric. "It's not the sort of traveling I'm used to," she replies, still watching the cavorting patrons. "Wildcats and robbers aside." Her next words are lost by a staggering otter being supported by a much smaller dormouse, equally drunk, both crooning 'Beauutiful soooooup!' A few specks of their ale fleck the edge of the table. "..d get on well enough. And there won't be much point for me at the shore."

Harper's brow furrows. "Who gets on well enough?" he inquires. And then adds. "... Do you know how /happy/ Tam'll be t'see you?"

Magramba... Is hugged. The cushion flops to the floor as the squirrel takes a step back, arms moving to support the weight hanging from his neck, all the while making little "uhhh" sounds.

Faster, faster. More beasts are falling over on each other, and it's getting to be quite the mess, the shrew jigging up a storm and a few others in a circle with him keeping up nicely. Some have forgone the falling for a much less embarrassing pause, becoming an observer of those more practiced in this particular dance.

"I imagine he'll be a bit preoccupied." There's no rancor in the words, just a statement of fact. Sivaine shifts a little, dropping one arm to drape it over her rounding stomach. "I can check the trading figures in Halyard for Uncle Fen. Find shells. Catch word of Bottle. Were you going to let him know about you and Darcy?"

Darcy hangs on and kind of sways side to side, feet off the floor, knees bent and scut atwitch with glee. "/Mag/. I'm so /serious/ Maaag that is the /sweetest/ thing," she says, and leans her head back - only to aim a smooch against his mouth. Mwwahh!

"... About who and /what/?" Harper has bypassed the rest to focus in on that little nugget.

"Well you know how jealous he gets," says Sivaine, watching a mole and a squirrel attempt a highland fling. It doesn't go so well.

Harper doesn't say anything. Nope. Not a thing.

O-kay, that's about enough. Gratitude is great, and all, but. Magramba lets go of Darcy, leaving her to hang. Maybe that'll make her let go. Meanwhile, he's trying to discreetly clear the kiss from his muzzle.

Darcy completes her big ol' smooch of the squirrel and lets go, setting her feet down, and beaming afterward. She gestures with the hand holding the bottle. "Uhm! Heh. Put it against the wall? I mean I'm going to go /dance/ now Mag, I can't very well take it with me, heh!"

Faster, faster, faster, faster! The shrew and the group around him, consisting of the squirrel and otter he'd been talking to before along with a couple others, hop and kick and bounce with the beat, starting to get a little winded. But then again, so are the musicians, especially the ones playing the winds.

"And he's missed you. He'll want you to himself." Hn. Sivaine sits back, ears flicking at the rising tempo. What's going on out there?

Magramba waits for Darcy to walk off, then wipes backhanded across his mouth. The squirrel collects his things, and makes for the corner of the room, skirting it, knowing he'll find Harper and Sivaine away from... the dancing revolution.

"I think maybe I'll go see what they're doing," Harper says rather suddenly.

Sivaine twists around to look at the buck. "What?" she asks, studying his expression. She's sort of.. blocking his escape. "I'm pregnant, Harper, not /blind./ You two act like.. you act like /us./" She tilts the paw on the table palm-up in a gesture of emphasis, the glass settings on her ring glinting in the light.

"What do you /mean/, like us?" Harper's either being willfully dumb or he's just dumb. It's a pretty close call.

Darcy meanwhile wanders in a sort of zigzag through the crowd, bobbing her head a little along with the music. She breaks through the edge of the people outside of the dancing area, takes a few steps, and tilts her head faaaaar to the side to eye Belliger and the others. "/Someone/!" she announces to the group, arms up, drawing a goodly bit of attention toward her. She points at the dancers, grinning. "Someone. /Teach/ me this dance!"

The Loot is abandoned next to the wall, the cushion receiving a vehement glare. Then Magramba continues his march around the border.

The music starts slowing down, rather rapidly... The instrumentation has disappeared and it leaves only the percussion. Fortunately, this gives Belliger a reason to break out from the group and /yank/ Darcy into the circle. "It's easy, just watch me feet!" Hop, skip, swing of the legs, tap tap hop, swing, skip, jump... It's going slow enough to follow now, but the drum beat hints at maybe speeding up in just a little bit...

"All right. Not the separation and the part where I punched him on Midwinter." Sivaine's gaze falls to her fingers, which curl and lift to her muzzle, eyes closing while her lips brush the metal. "The part where you're having so much fun you forget the room exists."

"Siv, despite what you may think, I have not yet reached the point where I want to hear about how much fun you and Nathan have," is Harper's dry response. "Can I get out now?"

Yanked! Darcy wobbles and throws one arm out, keeping her balance, and ends up alongside Belliger. Her eyes focus down on his feet, and after a moment she starts to follow his steps. She's kind of jerky in her motions at first and then gets the hang of it, and the hand not holding her drink ends up on the shrew's shoulder. She just about cackles with laughter as she starts getting into it.

"Yer gettin' et!" Belliger nods, putting his own paw on Darcy's shoulder (hey they're about the same height! How about that, Darcy?) and jigging away. The others join once more and the percussion speeds up, slowly building to a crescendo! It's a very intense dance, this.

Sivaine gives Harper a look. "Uh huh," she drawls, resting her chin on her fist. "Look. It doesn't much matter what you do. Just keep Tam's reaction in mind."

"You need to move, then." And that's all Harper says.

"Hah, hahahah! Oh, oh bloody, hah!" Darcy cackles. She is /jubilant/. Is the music picking up? Oh yes, yes it is, and the faster it goes the faster she moves, missing some steps but keeping up the best she can. It's a good thing Belliger is there or she would probably fall over somewhere in the midst of this.

And it keeps picking up, accelerating more rapidly this time. "Haha, now stop it, you're messin' /me/ up now..." Belliger's boots knock against the floor and lift up in the next moment, body bouncing up and down in time with teh beat. Everyone's having just a /great/ time, though, clapping along with the increasing tempo, some of the group chiming in with a chant of 'hey! hey! hey!' along with the beat.

Sivaine considers Harper for a moment, then slides aside. "Try dancing," she suggests, with a little nod toward the music and an encouraging half-smile for the buck, tone kind. "It's pretty good with the right partner." Then she sidesteps to avoid a reeling shrew and melts into the crowd.

Harper doesn't say anything to Siv. Kind tone or not, he has not enjoyed what she had to say. Once he's up, he disappears into the crowd without another word.

"Gack!" is Darcy's reaction when another dancer, much worse of than her, topples sideways in /front/ of her. She almost trods on his tail before spectators slip forward to pull him out of the way. She makes a 'whoop!' noise and sways sideways into Belliger, getting back into the steps with him after a moment. "Haaarper!" Her tone is sing-song, a summons. "Harpeeer! Oh bloody, hahaha, where is /he/! Harper come /dance/..!"

"Who's 'arper?" Belliger chuckles, winded but still able to laugh. The dance is reaching its end, though, and the shrew's dancing more quickly, along with the others skilled enough to do so, and still others that try their best, much like Darcy.

Harper is soooo not biting.

"Harper!!" Darcy shouts out into the crowd. If he hurries he can get there in time for the next dance to start up! ".. is my friend, hah, /ow/! Ow who just /stepped/ on me! Hahahah, heh, he's.. he's not coming is he. Bugger." She shakes her head, chuckling, and finally stumbles away from Belliger, out of the group of dancers, finding a chair and sagging into this. She's breathless from exertion and giggles.

Belliger gives Darcy a little thwack to her back to help her out of the crowd, the dance finally reaching its fastest point, then finally just... Stopping. And everyone gives a raucous cheer, slugging each other on the arms and hugging and laughing and it's generally an environment of good cheer.

And in the midst of all the cheering and merry-making Darcy sets down her bottle, finally, and pushes herself upright. It takes a bit of nudging but she finds her way to the bar, gets up on a stool - with help. And when /that/ vantage doesn't show Harper anywhere, at all, she makes for the door and heads outside, into the chill, with a sort of grumpy expression on as she goes.

Belliger claps a few times, looking around for that doe. ...Huh. He shrugs to himself, and when the band starts up another number, he stops thinking about it and starts dancing, finding a partner for this slow number.

And there's Harper! He's lying on his back on a bench next to the front of the pub. He is observing the stars.

Darcy steps out the door, and pulls it back behind her. Her hand is still on the handle, holding that, allowing her to sort of lean outward. Her head tilts. It's quieter outside with the door shut. "Hey. Hey mister." Her smile is questioning.

Harper's ears lift, perking while his head does not. "Mm?" he answers.

Darcy releases the door and moves toward him. The buck is taking up the whole bench and there's no room to sit, so she looks down at him, dark eyes squinted a little. "... hi. Hi Harp. You want to come in and dance with me?"

"I can't dance to that music," is Harper's response as he looks upward at her.

Darcy purses her lips a little. She's thinking, and lists just a fraction side to side as she does. "We could ... find some other music."

"Or we could not dance," is the obvious alternative.

Someone opens the door to stumble away from the pub. Partied out!

One of her ears bends over. "Okay. No dancing." She sounds disappointed, but shakes her head. "Want to just .. walk? Or something? Or.." She stops, glancing up, then back down at him. Her expression is some combination of earnest and unsure.

"Why don't you go enjoy the party?" Harper queries, eyes shifting briefly away from her and to the stumbler.

"I did. I wanted /you/ to also. But instead you're.." She blinks, scowls a little. Verbosity is harder when she has alcohol in her. ".. something-something. Come on, Harp." Her hand extends out to him.

Not taking the paw would be kind of a slap in the face, and a slapped /and/ drunk Darcy is not something Harper feels like dealing with. He takes the paw. Rises. "I'm not dancing," he repeats.

Darcy smirks a little. "No. No we're walking. Is that tame enough for you?" She gives him a tug as he rises, takes a step back, drawing Harper with her away from the pub.

The door opens again, and out stumbles a mouse, who quickly makes his way around the side, holding his mouth and stomach.

"IIII... don't really want to go for a walk," is Harper's rather obstinate answer. A sigh fizzles out before it is really voiced. At least if they went in the pub she might get distracted by drinking and dancing!

Darcy blinks mildly. An ear twitches at the latest beast to exit the bar but she keeps her gaze on Harper, confused, scowling faintly. "What .. /do/ you want to do?"

"I kind of wanted to be alone?" is Harper's regrettable answer. He /does/ voice a sigh, this time, and rubs his free paw over his face. "Sorry. Just. Go enjoy the party? Please?"

Darcy's brows dip down a fraction. "Harp what's wrong.."

"/Nothing/," Harper says.

Darcy snorts, and smirks a little. It's wry, but it's not a scowl. "Right. You're just all broody and scowly 'cause you /enjoy/ it."

"Right," he agrees.

"Liar," she counters. "I'm not /that/ far gone. And the grump is killing my buzz, heh."

"It won't kill your buzz if I'm not around. So go back inside," Harper urges. Gives Darcy's paw a little squeeze and tries to release.

Darcy hooks her fingers through his and doesn't let go. So there. "Too late. I don't even want a buzz anymore. Will you just tell me what's wrong?" She shakes her head. "We've had an arse of a time the whole way and we're finally someplace where we can have /fun/ and ... look at you."

"Sitting around while you flirt for drinks isn't my idea of fun, love." Harper smiles thinly. Shakes his head. Sighs. "This isn't my thing. Darce... I'm a Brother in a peaceful Order of mice who... sit around drinkin' tea 'n' readin' books. Pubs aren't m'thing."

Darcy frowns at this statement. "Okay.. okay I just. Nnh. I thought you'd have fun? Drink a little a dance and mingle with .. /beasts/. Instead of spiders and frogs. ... heh." She grins, a plaintive little thing. "I'm sorry. Come on. Let's just walk and.. and. Something. Maybe we can still enjoy ourselves right? Right, mister?"

The look, the look, it's going to kill him. Heeeee... relents. Kind of eases up. "... Right. Sure, Darce. Okay." He starts walking.

"I am trying very hard to be sober," Darce says seriously as she starts walking also, taking about a step and a half or so for each one of his. "So you've been here before. ... pick a place."

"A place? For what?" Harper glances at her.

Darcy shrugs. "For ... us to walk to? Or we can be aimless. Drifters! And end up sleeping in a ditch, haha."

"We've got a place to sleep," Harper counters. And then even adds, kindly, "With beds. That we won't be drugged for."

"Well. ... you're the one who wanted to sleep under the starts, right mister?" Darcy flashes a grin at him, picking up her pace. Her route kind of curves, not quite keeping a straight line, but she doesn't wobble anyway. "I don't know. I can only /walk/ for so long, did you see me dancing? No you didn't. Well I'm kind of /sore/..." Her hand detaches from his and she wanders a few steps ahead.

Harper follows after Darcy at the same leisurely pace. But after a few seconds he catches up, coming up behind her with his paws resting on her sides, steadying her and straightening her path.

Darcy gives a little 'nn' sound in response and leans back into him a little. Her arms cross over her middle to rest her hands on top of his, lightly. And she hums, closing her eyes, still walking but letting Harper direct her path. ".. what do you do with a drunken sailor..." It's crooned, more lullaby-like than anything.

Harper's chin rests on her shoulder, his muzzle turning inward. His forward motion is kind of an afterthought. "... The summer air was heavy 'n' sweet," he sings, murmured, into her ear. "You and I on a crowded street. There was music everywhere - I c'n see us there. In a happy little foreign town, where the stars hung upside down..."

Darcy mutters, "No fair, your song's better than mine..." Her ears tuck back and she does sway now, a tiny bit, side to side with their steps, which are in sync now. "Mm. Harp, where.. are we /going/..."

Harper's shoulders shrug faintly. "Half a world away, far far away... I remember you were laughing. We were so in love... we were so in love. And they played songs we'd never heard, but we danced anyway. We never understood the words, we just sang 'oh la la la la la oh', and we danced anyway..." He is serenading her, oh yes he is. And then he smiles. "That part doesn't fit so well, does it? That's my fault."

Darcy cracks her eyes open a little. "Neither does the 'so in love' part, sweetheart..." She smiles, brushes her fingers against his knuckles.

"Well I can fix the dancing part, anyway." They're both sort of swaying, at this point. He murmurs more of the words to the song, mostly a refrain, into her ear.

One of her ears ticks upward from their tucked back position. "Mm? Dance? You want to?" She likes this idea, yes she does. Her muzzle drifts sideways, ginger lashes touching her cheeks, mouth formed in a sleepy kind of smile. "Let's .. go somewhere. And dance, okay? Dance with me, Harp, Harper, Harper..."

Harper's paw seeks out hers. He looks around, then, and leads the way. Off down a side street, past a few houses into an open courtyard.

Darcy drags her feet on the first few steps before her strides even out. She follows, eyes half-open, their fingers linked.

There's the sound of a violin drifting out a window nearby. There really is music everywhere tonight, with the festival and all of the creatures packed into the small village. His paws fall about her waist. "Maybe if I hold you close, maybe we could just let go... Of these things that tie us down. We'll come back around..."

Harper has proven himself the better singer. Darcy has nothing but barroom ballads even when sober, which she's not. The doe slips her arms up, hands against his biceps, cheek to Harper's chest, and she sways with him.

Harper's singing trails off into murmurs again. He moves them gently about the courtyard, just a few swaying steps this way - that way.

Darcy steps with him, side to side a little, following the drifting motion wherever it leads them - never far from the starting point. One hand slips down, against his chest, fingers cinching gently at the fabric of his shirt.

Harper's turns his muzzle, kissing her temple. He's quieted, just letting the violin be their music.

Darcy responds with a groggy 'rr' sound. She draws a breath, lets it out. More of her weight is leaned into him. Half-asleep, seems like.

It's another moment until Harper shifts, going to scoop the sleepy doe up into his arms. "Sh-shh," he meets any sleepy protests. Carrying her.

Another 'rrr' is all the protest she makes, and the small doe tucks her head against him, face mostly hidden, bangs in her face as she's lifted and curls naturally in Harper's hold.

And he carries her off, into the night, no doubt to whatever dwelling has been arranged.