[center][h2][b]Ophelia[/b][/h2][/center]

"Perhaps, perhaps. Though... I do not think this is an ordinary night, love. I find myself conflicted: such a situation would be terrible, yes, but I find myself wanting it to happen regardless. I will have a think; perhaps I can bring my tools here... Though it would have to be our little secret, I'm afraid. They... they are exceedingly precious to me, and I could not bear for something to happen to them. Ah, but look, the others are getting restless. While you were gone I got quite the number of looks--the other women appear to be jealous of all of the attention you've lavished upon me! I will go, now, and return to my comrades--thank you again for everything, dear, and I will hopefully see you again very soon." Ophelia replied, ruminant and a little... perhaps sad, perhaps disappointed.

"Unless there's anything else?" She asked, finally taking a step back to remain at a more socially acceptable distance from the First Hunter. If there was nothing else, she would stride through the workshop (occasionally returning a knowing look to those women who glanced at her enviously) and out towards the lantern that she'd first arrived by. The gold made her uneasy, but she did not have to touch it to gaze into the lantern's gleaming glow and find herself once more being overtaken by the throes of slumber.