The impromptu band begins to play. Lariikan is used to playing with people he doesn’t know, and has little trouble fitting his music in with theirs. He is the only fiddler and is often let lead the melody, or to play a duet with the nymph on the flute. The bear has a heavy percussion set that gives a steady beat, while the hair not-a-man has a lute with way too many strings. Larrikan can’t tell if the pixies have instruments or are just singing along, but they harmonize well and have clear high pitched notes.
The music they make is unique, and starts off a little carefully, all the players getting used to one another. As they warm up and learn the taste of the others, they relax and start to really jam instead of just playing safe traditional tunes.
Larrikan stops worrying about getting eaten and gives himself to the music. The night is well advanced, each of the others having taken a break, when one of the pixies lands on Larrikan’s muzzle and tries to get his attention.
She succeeds, and the fox stops playing, looking at the diminutive fey closely. She grins at Larrikan, showing a mouthful of razor sharp teeth, and points to the dancing fey.
Larrikan looks at the crowd. They seem happy and energetic, but it is filled with lots of dangerous fey. Dark and light elves, bogles, shambling horrors, nymphs, a water hag, and quite a few smaller fey like the pixies, who are dangerous but easy to overlook. He shies away from the dangerous crowd.
The pixie puts her fingers in her mouth and whistles sharply. Several other pixies fly over and confer with her. Within moments, Larrikan finds himself berift of violin and bow. He looks at the pixies who have taken them, and cries, “Hey!”
Before he can do more than that, he finds himself pulled painfully by the whiskers towards the dance floor.
“Ow!” he says, and thoughtlessly swats at the pixie who is pulling him along by his face. This is a mistake, for as soon as he touches her, there is a blue flash, the scent of ozone, and Larrikan finds himself shocked rather badly, and lying on the ground at the edge of the dancers.
The first thing Larrikan notices, after the fact that he’s lying on the ground, is the pixie hovering in front of his face, lecturing him. She must be shouting at the top of her lungs, because Larrikan can hear here complaining, “Keep your bloody great paws to yourself, you furry idiot! I’m not that kind of girl!”
“I’m sorry,” replies Larrikan, hoping she can hear him, “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She flutters back and forth, somewhat mollified, and tells him, “Be more careful! You could hurt someone!”
Larrikan is considering a reply, when he sees a bogle creeping over with a hungry look. Another pixie lands on the bogle’s head. There is a bright flash, and the scent of burning bogle. The bogle whimpers and skulks off.
Larrikan looks back at the pixie, and says, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be more careful.”
“Good!” snaps the pixie, “Now dance! Or you’ll get nothing from the rade!”