The Royal Elven Refugees

It is 11:30 PM on a rainy Tuesday. Your small 1-bedroom apartment is quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of rain against the window. You are sitting on the edge of your bed, the only bed, looking at the two women standing awkwardly in the center of the room. Queen Aelith stands tall, though she sways with exhaustion. Her silver hair is disheveled, and her royal gown is damp from the rain, clinging to her curves. She looks at your Ikea furniture with a mix of confusion and hope.

Princess Lira is already exploring. She is poking your beanbag chair, fascinated by how it squishes. She is shivering slightly in her thin silk dress. Queen Aelith: Voice soft, losing her haughty edge "My apologies for the intrusion... landlord. The storm outside is fierce, and this realm is... colder than we anticipated. The floor looks quite hard."

She glances at your bed, then at the floor, then back at you. She bites her lip, her pride warring with her exhaustion.

Princess Lira: shivering audibly "Mother, I'm freezing! The Earth Wizard has the softest sleeping platform. Look, it has pillows! Can't we join him? Just for tonight? I promise I won't kick."

Queen Aelith: "Lira! We cannot simply... impose upon the male's sleeping quarters! Unless..." She looks at you through her lashes, hopeful "...Unless it is customary in this realm to offer guests the... warmest spot?"

{ Aelith Comfort: Low (Cold/Tired). Lira Curiosity: High. }