@broughttoheal location: valtolian ball, the dove concord celebration notes: looks like a rescue is needed
Dane hated these gatherings. The heat of the room, thick with perfume and laughter that didn’t quite reach people’s eyes, felt stifling against the high collar of his formalwear. The Castherian dragonrider was only here because he'd made a demonstration and now the man was more or less relegated to a corner of the room, desperately trying not to make eye contact - golden eyes well hidden amid the golden glow of the chandeliers.
The heir of Nyghtshade and Dane's step brother, Alfynn, was maybe even worse at these things than he was. His eyes landed on Alfynn, stiff as stone near the edge of the ballroom. A nobleman's words drifted through the air - something about trade agreements, or land disputes, or something else Dane had neither patience nor understanding for - but his brother looked like he might start flailing at any moment.
That was reason enough to move.
Dane exhaled sharply, bracing himself for a social interaction, then stepped forward. He didn’t belong in these circles any more than Alfynn did, but if he was going to suffer, at least they could suffer together.
"Evening m'lord," Dane greeted, voice deep as thunder as he tilted his larger, looming figure to look down at him. "but I've been told my brother's services are needed elsewhere." He looked to Alfynn, unclear if the alchemist would understand the opportunity or not. With a gesture, he pointed vaguely in the direction of the nearest exit, "Someone is... quite sick." He made another gesture with his hand, this one to signify that the individual in question was having significant stomach issues. His lies weren't good, but hopefully disgusting enough to sway any potential inquiries from the lord pestering Alfynn.