[center][h3][color=fff79a]Lyla Warren[/color][/h3][/center]

Someone else bid Laurel farewell from nearby, prompting Lyla to turn her head slightly. She wasn't sure if she had heard the voice before. The Splice was feeling better, but it was still slowly that she raised her head to take another sip of water from the cool glass that her right hand never left. The first slice of bread was gone, and the fingers of her left hand rested on the second. Between each bite or drink, she would return her head to the table and wait for it to stop spinning.

Lyla heard the door open and close again, and the room fell hushed. The tension was nearly palpable, and it wasn't hard to understand what was going on. The ballroom had nearly the same feeling earlier. There was friction again, and voices and names soon told her who was involved. The Dragon again, and the Dark Court Faerie. A Warlock seemed to have been caught in it as well this time. She wasn't listening very close to words, but the tone of each voice gave her a general idea of what was happening.

The earlier events had carried much more tension, much more potential for violence, Lyla felt, but it still made her nervous to consider what might happen if someone reacted aggressively in such close quarters with so many bystanders. Hopefully they all had enough sense to leave off before it got that far. Her ears flicked toward the center of the room as Kiara started to laugh and delivered her venomous response.

[color=fff79a]"Maybe a party wasn't the best idea after all,"[/color] Lyla considered quietly from her place at the table. She certainly wasn't feeling any better for it.