Dec 23, 2020
@kiteshields
As usual, the satyrs, centaurs and nymphs were the true life of the party. The former were challenging willing centaurs to arm wrestling matches at a nearby table which was already cluttered with food and drink. River’s heart was racing as the current satyr nearly had the centaur beat before the final breath. A loud slam caused all of the dishes to clatter while the crowd cheered in both victory and astonishment.
One of the cups of ambrosia launched itself off of the rattled table, spilling over whoever stood near. River stepped to the side, trying his best not to soil his silver Yule time suit, but patted the other man nearest to the mess. “You didn’t get struck, right?”
