She couldn't help it as a chuckle escaped her lips. Relaxing into her husband for a moment before turning to face him, "You should know by now that it's bad luck to break tradition." Mavis teased as her gaze leveled with his. There was a familiar glint of mischief that glimmered in the depths as a smug smile pulled at her lips. Her frame was small against his; demure and fragile. Wrapping her arms around his neck; Mavis pulled herself up closer. Nuzzling her face into his neck before biting the flesh softly. 

"Mnn, best wait until sundown I suppose," She murmured, enjoying his scent and warmth before breaking away, "Can't break tradition, can we?" She teased once more.

"Justin...do you think he's ready?"

Mavis' voice had taken on a more serious tone as worry furrowed her brow. He had been in the shadows for the past hundred years and while he seemed to take a natural grace to the life Mavis couldn't help but worry. Idly she chewed on her lower lip. Anxious fingers pulling at the loose fabric on her nightgown as she started towards her closet. Mavis kept two wardrobes. One for her part in some of the acts and the other for blending in with the common folk in town. Occasionally she'd even fill in on the more dangerous stunts when the performers were ill or even exhausted. Personally she preferred walking along the tight rope. In fact that was how she met Jericho all those centuries ago. The day she fell off in the middle of her audition. She had been sure they'd send her off but he spoke up for her. Seeing something in the runaway dancer.