In which a one-handed Molly helps out a Weir by tossing bread and singing. Yes, singing. In public.

Molly gestures with her cup, "Just wondering. You seemed a mite tired there."

Faelin leans back to look around the room. "I don't know. The room has changed somewhat, don't you think?"

Molly arches an eyebrow and peers around the room. "Did a ( Read more... )