He murmured incoherently to himself, something about dust and fewmets, dust and fewmets everywhere. But, his murmuring about the deplorable state of cleanliness here, and how it most certainly needed his touch--which, sadly, the chains made very difficult for him-- came to an end when the domineering presence came forth.<br/><br/>The queen walked with such authority that he could feel no mistake in presuming that this was her dwelling. Seeing her, though, made him curious, for the concept of a demon was new to him; his first, initial thought is<em>By Oberon's goatee, it's an Unseelie! This is not good, not good at all. And it explains the filth! </em><br/><br/>He was nearly about to say something to her, give her a piece of his mind, because really, one should take better care of their home, Unseelie or not. But then she went on  and on  about some sort of Celestial. What was that? He watched, looked over the one that was indicated, and furrowed his brows. How strange! He's never seen someone like that.<br/><br/>And then, just as his thoughts returned to their surroundings, he found himself ready to speak, mouth even going so far as to open, and the first syllable of a word to form, a protest, but then She was talking again, and he instantly fell quiet.<br/><br/><em>Oh, dear, that can't possibly good. </em>He curled up a bit, and tried his hardest to go invisible; and while it was true that no mortal could glance upon him (they would only see the chains),  he had forgot one important thing: The ones he wanted to hide from were far from mortal.