The batlike Sviirog stood, frozen in place, completely bewildered by the dwarf. Not only was he short, but he was also the first person she had ever encountered who simply walked off mid-conversation. Her shock was interrupted by a magician, who seemed to think it wasn't extremely rude to cast magic in the middle of a crowd - prompting her to launch herself in the other direction, away from the magic. It was a very uncomfortable spell - some sort of summoning, and she had been standing right in the middle of one of the invisible streams of power emanating from the youngling's staff. She didn't know if he knew how magic worked, but it had felt like a ghost had thrust its hand through her chest and into her heart.

The six hidden bioluminescent stripes upon her face grew hot and gently glowed in anger - now almost visible in daylight. She had to release her stress [i]right now[/i], before one of the mages angered her further. A few short, angry strides brought her to the edge of the crowd, where she waited for an opening, impatiently tapping her foot all the while. The dwarf would do well to finish his fight quickly.