Men and woman stampeded towards the seemingly limitless selection of food, taking what they wanted and grouping up near the lake's edge, usually with their families. Lystra's mother chuckled at the girl's response and let go of her wrist. She'd gotten just a little carried away by the festivities, regardless of how boorish they were. "Sorry Lys, sorry! You know how I get around this time of year," she pleaded, slowing her pace to stay by Lystra's side. Gremma was a little quick to lose herself in the silliest things, but the woman always tried her best to keep her head from falling too far into the abyss of [i]the feast.[/i] "I'm going to put together a plate for myself, find me by the lake when you're ready," Gremma conceded, leaving Lystra to her own devices. Sometimes Gremma forgot that her new daughter wasn't just a fledgling, not that she knew what it was like to take care of a real child. The fates weren't kind to Gremma, or her late husband.

	"Lystra!" A familiar voice rang out from behind, "Lystra did you see? Kalo's technique was crazy!" Almost like a typhoon of ecstatic laughter, Emilia barreled into Lystra and clutched her with both arms, no doubt with a unique perspective on the match that she was [i]dying[/i] to share. "He was so damn precise! Like a hawk, or, or... A boar? No, boars aren't precise. Like a bird of some kind, probably, definitely a hawk!" Emilia rambled on, having trouble organizing her thoughts. She was always the excitable type, but the girl was smart, like a professor who could never shut up. "The angle of his pole at that last second, he aimed to rattle Kalen's entire jaw without seriously hurting him! His strikes were poised to show respect, strength, and love- It was amazing!"

	Trailing a few steps behind Emilia, was her younger brother. A small boy, no more than ten years old, and silent as a rock. He looked around nervously at the people still headed for the food, and stood close to his sister's leg. Emilia didn't notice him, still holding onto Lystra for dear life.

	Meanwhile, Kalo and his father had found their place by the lakeside. The two were speaking about something, quietly enough that nobody else could hear. But to catch a glimpse of their faces might've been an unfortunate turn of luck. Kalo's face was empty, almost like he'd been robbed of his energy. His father looked upon him sternly and nodded, but the boy sat there silently, with no response, verbal or physical.