She listened as he spoke his quiet and careful words, they revealed little but the title to which the metal monsters held, Iron Brigade, Iron... Iron was the bad rock, the one that made her tired, if they were made of iron then the monsters had used that to weaken and trap her sisters, a wicked trick for cowards. It made sense now why her sisters had seemed so easily defeated, for the pair were formidable and had taken down a manticore alone before.Inside then the metal were likely humans or fae, vile cowards the lot of them, she had heard they liked wearing armour however she was confused for the fae suffered iron's bite worse than they did they not? Such were issues for another time though, to discuss after her and her sister had destroyed this 'Iron Brigade' and returned home together. Until that moment where she had her hand in her sisters scaly hand curiosity could wait. 

He had paused after revealing the name of her enemy and what followed she did not like at all, the smile caused her to visibly flinch and the small smile she held to fade into a frown. What right did a fae have to smile? whatever she had done she had clearly made a mistake for these foul monsters only grinned before skinning a hapless Fomori. As he turned his hand over it took all her effort not to flinch further away or allow her snakes to act on barely repressed instinct and bite deep into the silky looking flesh. Dangerous indeed he was and she watched with a degree more caution, her weight shifting to her back foot and her hands loosening from their balled state at her side. She had walked into dangerous territory when she came in here and she had known as much but only now did the danger truly present itself.

When 'thousands' of places were mentioned a part of her heart sank, how many years would it take her to search each one for her sister? She had more questions lined up for him and yet he kept talking, by the time he had grown quiet so had she and she allowed her mind to briefly hang on his last words. It was clear he was making a not so subtle attempt to probe into her familial heritage and it made her uneasy. One did not declare, outside of the safety of the forest, who or what they were for the risk of the hateful little fae digging their sharp claws in and rending the flesh from their scales. If this creature wanted to know what she was it was not for the sake of helping her, fae were not kindly creatures, they didn't 'help' people unless there was something in it for them.

She owned nothing of value to trade though, her siblings always said shiny things worked for the simple but barbaric fae but there were none of those in her possession. As she saw it her choices were limited, she could kill the man where he sat, which would undoubtedly call the wrath of the other 'fairer' species upon her, she could turn on her heel, thanking him and walking away, which would perhaps cause a scene should the other decide he did not wish her to go or there was the third option. In such a space it ought to have been fine with no ill effects to the room, lest someone, or multiple someones decide to strain their ears and have a listen themselves. For a moment one sharp tooth caught the edge of her lip and after steeling her nerves she took a quiet breath. 

What flowed from her lungs was unlike most fae had heard in generations and humans only heard about in stories, it ripped down defenses with all the ease of a storm but all the delicacy of a butterflies wing. Her voice while 'enchanting' while spoken was now beyond just simply pleasant, it rippled with the lull of centuries of old magic, each word echoed twice in ancient voices like waves to break upon Kalan's ears and all those who listened. The song itself was uplifting, a good change to the depression she had heard in each note played by the music makers in the streets and this hall. It came like a cooling rain in the blistering heat or that first sip of water after a long hard day, there was something that compelled a person not to turn away, to keep listening as each note was produced and as the song filled the air and pulled at the listener it was then that the 'magic' began to happen. 

For everyone who heard or listened it would be different, for those who caught only a snippet it might be flash backs or de ja vu and for those who listened longer it would be like a brief memory playing over in the mind but for Kalan it would be more intense. For him he would be transported back to a memory, one he consciously or otherwise related to the song or the melody and while aware of who he was now he would relive the memory in full. With the sights and sounds, smells and tastes that one had associated with that memory, down to the very last detail. Oddly each note, each word was understandable on a basic level, as if language was no barrier as if there was nothing but the melody and the thought it was trying to convey between the singer and the listener. The memories her song conjured were not simple ones but ones of importance be it forgotten in the darkness of repressed memories or simply forgotten over the length of time and stresses of life in this shameful pocket of disease. She had no say in what the people saw and she could only hope what she roused in Kalan was a good memory, or at least pleasant enough to keep him quiet and not angry, distracted enough perhaps that he would listen to her proposal without asking again her family origins. 

[hider= Ruhe Sanft] [url=https://plus.google.com/+DonaldTurnbull/posts/LTgaWNvwyZ9] [/hider]