He murmured, odd, bird-like noises drifting away from him; mostly from pleasure. Their were few--or, possibly, quite a few-- who could say they had the distinct honor and privilege of practically being raped by the demon Queen, and he was one of them.<br/><br/>However, they were soon being dropped in on quite rudely and unexpectedly, and this agitated the Fae's propensity for shyness. He would seemingly disappear to the Baron; although if he had any degree of magical prowess, he might be able to make out a thin outline of the stealthy, invisible Brownie.<br/><br/>Quiet as can be, the Fae slips out of the bed, but, his in-born OCD compels him to first arrange the sheets. All very nice, neat, orderly, and cleansed with cantrips of their sweat, bodily fluid, and the bits of grime that were probably imperceptible to all but the domestic-focused race to which he belonged.<br/><br/>After that bit is done, though, he commences with the hiding. Specifically, he grabs onto the wall, and much like a spider, scales up it; his movement is effortless, and absolutely silent. His breathing, light as it was, was louder than his moving, for the Brownie's natural shyness made them natural masters of both magical and mundane stealth. He would find a nice little corner of the ceiling to cower in.