As she walked by, mindlessly adjusting her somewhat restraining swashbuckler shirt, she glanced at the flowers with a coy smile. Ninuviel stopped in her tracks, her high heels saved for her visit in Dalaran. She hadn't worn them for quite a while, yet her balance was admirable. Long dark-grey linen boots that reached far up her shapely thighs. Her little mageweave leggings hidden underneath a rather short skirt of similar color as she was making her way towards the location of tonight's party. She was invited afterall and she had to make a lasting impression, even if she was a Priestess. At least her skirt would cover her bum up properly, even if it rode up a little, due to the tight fit (she hadn't used it in ages). Since she was asigned to the Abbey in Northshire as a representative of the Sisterhood such clothing was a rare sight on her voluptous frame. Her shirt stretching quite a bit in front. The strings barely keeping it together it would seem.<br/><br/>She would run her hand smoothly over her thigh, wondering if her attire would attract flowers from males. She had heard many rumours about the parties in Dalaran. The sounds of wicked creatures such as orcs grunting or even tauren. The moans of lewd blood elves. The thought made her flush a little. Giggling to herself she stepped up to the goblin with that sweet, good-natured, smile of hers. Full elven lips displayed a cute little pout. She glanced at the black roses, resting her petite hands on her thighs while leaning over. Her cleavage awkwardly enough on display for the goblin, there was no avoiding that the way she was dressed today.<br/><br/>Ninuviel, as if she was acting the role her clothing branded her and completely missed out of the fact that the flowers looked a bit wrinkled, was ignorant enough to speak in Darnassian. "Owh my, such pretty flowers." Completely ignoring the goblin while gazing at them.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>