Hideaway Strath Long Live The Queen!

Her eyes flicker over the faces, lingering on none long enough to draw too much attention to her unceremonious entrance. She allows her lips to quirk upwards faintly with warmth as Simmik enters, brushing along the Grandmaster in some secret language only they speak before settling on the ground nearby. Her own diadem of marble dips in return before her gaze slips back to Kynareth -- as Simmik's undoubtedly would. 

Her brows tic faintly in the barest echo of surprise, wondering if perhaps there was something wrong with the spot she chose. Maybe the brindle just thought she wouldn't be able to hear. She rose and padded silently, discreetly, over to the Sandraudiga's side (one of the few she can consider a sort of a friendly acquaintance) and sat near the snow-pelted Specialist somewhat shyly -- a move that might have unknowingly been seen as allying herself with Kynareth's wife to some of Simmik's enemies in the audience. 

Unaware of what she might've (literally) stepped into, the waif's opaline gaze lifted to Donav as he called for their attention. It drifted next to the zircon-eyed Overseer as she was promoted and then to Derg -- whom she was very glad to see still resided amongst the Saints. They'd had little chance to become close friends before she left but given her aspirations to become a combat medic, Aerin figured that would soon change since he would someday be her leader as a Blade. 

A grin of camaraderie spread over her lips, the snowy sprite soon letting her own head fall back as her howl  joined the others', happy for Nyra (even if she didn't know  her well either yet) and Derg's success.