He's had a little too much to drink and there is a sweet heavy marijuana-smoke smell hanging around him. He looks like some sort of sad-eyed angel or pixie, or some other lovely, fragile thing missing its wings
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He's startled, and a little drunk, and more than a little stoned, so it takes longer than it should for him to reply. "Yeah. Yeah, I did." He still isn't sure she's real, but he hopes so.
Mab smiles a big smile, the kind of smile that stretches over her tiny tiny teeth. She presses a very tiny, sticky kiss on his neck before saying anything else.
"Good. I missed you too. -- where's your biscuit?"
"My what?" The last thing Griffin remembers is seriously contemplating jumping out a window, although he never quite got there. "Where have you been, anyway?"
Mab sighs with mock exasperation before insisting, "Your biscuit. That boy I found for you -- Damien, I think..." She taps her chin with a tiny finger.
"-- I've been everywhere," she exclaims gleefully. "Ireland, China, Bora Bora -- you name it. Although, I don't really know how I got here."
She hovers close behind him before she settles herself on his shoulder, leaning against his neck. Mab leans up carefully, softly, to whisper --
"Did you miss me?"
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"Good. I missed you too. -- where's your biscuit?"
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"-- I've been everywhere," she exclaims gleefully. "Ireland, China, Bora Bora -- you name it. Although, I don't really know how I got here."
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"Where is here, anyway?"
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