The elves didn't know what to think of the performance they were witnessing-- there was nothing recognizable, nothing like their own songs and dances, so there was no way to compare.  The music was without rhythm, or at least without a pattern they could follow, and the dance had no structure they could see.  Grey faces watched, confused or surprised, but still drawn in with reluctant curiosity.<br/><br/>The bird demon sang like, well, a bird-- it sounded like the birdsong of spring, the same wilderness and vivid tone.  Tamlin was brought to a warm, sunny morning, light streaming through the windows and listening to the forest wake up along the mountainside.  His dark eyes tried to follow Ursalo's smooth, impossible movements, but there was no way to keep up.<br/><br/>The demon seemed to be made of smoke, moving and curving and changing with ease beyond anything an elf could mimic.  Jera was intensely awed, crimson gaze focused entirely on the snake as he danced: what a dance, it was stunning, beautiful to watch, so strange but so very moving.  His eyes widened as Ursalo blew him a kiss, and his cheeks darkened with a pleased flush; thankfully the room was dim enough to hide the color, and he simply grinned and tried not to laugh with delight.<br/><br/>Then, after the crescendo of the dance, it was done.  The room erupted with noise, startling the elves and making many jump; they too finally clapped, much quieter and more restrained.  It had been bizarre, not what they imagined, but it hadn't been exactly barbaric either...  A strange art, but still art, they supposed.  The king and queen clapped, Naviin busied himself with his wine, and Tamlin clapped as well, though his was much more genuine.  Jera would've whistled, but the setting was wrong... he'd have to praise Ursalo later.<br/><br/>"Very intriguing," mused Riasa, delicate hands making a slight clinking noise with her rings.  "A wonderful performance..."  For a demon.