[h3]Lyriia Elenye[/h3]
Lyriia loved shopping. Dresses (Even if they were only doll clothes for human children’s little wooden dolls) and herbs and jewelry. Lovely sparkly, impractical things.

She always kept an eye on the arena, noting that the Grand Melee that had just started. She supposed she ought to be over there; after all, Gaeven had won a spot in the Melee, and Kintaer had been close, finishing about 20th overall, despite his crippled wing. The only damper on her spirits was that Lyellan wasn’t here; his new master probably had him off running some hare-brained scheme.

The thought of her twin was an ache in her heart. She forced it out of her mind and focused. Herbs. She wanted to buy herbs. Right.

A scream from the Grand Melee; she flew over to the arena in a panic, craning her neck to see her brothers. No sign of either of them. Nor of Kierie.
She went to fly up to look for them, but was stopped by a hand closing firmly around her. “Not so fast, Lyriia. Your first duty is to the people.” Master Longarm muttered, releasing her.

And so she flew over the crowd, stopping by a young child who had gotten lacerated by… something, and started tending the wound. She didn’t dare use her magic on it. Not now, not with so many people around.