Those beautiful wings extend in a languid stretch, ethereal tresses of her mane spilling across the pillows like rivulets of liquid starlight. "Hmm, thou lookest rather resplendent in those formal robes," Luna remarks in that rich, smoky alto of hers. A single winged brow arches appraisingly as she subjects you to an exaggerated once-over. "Though We must confess, a part of Us prefers thee attired in… rather less cumbersome accoutrements."