"How about a song," said Bryn, almost sensuously, into Lyra's ear. He stepped back, suddenly, his hand flat against the center of Lyra's chest, his fingers outstretched, almost pulling. He began to force her to change, his power evident in a slight purplish-blue glow that permeated his eyes as his power made her shift. It was not particularly subtle, this power he exerted, forcing her down, smaller into a bird, a song-bird.<br/><br/>He let got, knowing she'd have to pick the form she would take herself, but also knowing that his order had been given.<br/><br/>"Sing, dear Lyra," he said, as he turned back toward the two males.<br/><br/>"And you..." he said, looking to Midnight, and reaching out a hand. Still halfway across the room, he extended a hand, a mystical force what one could only assume was the Wizard's power, reached out to bridge the distance, pulling midnight from the bed by his left ankle, and onto the floor, toward Bryn.<br/><br/>"We'll have a song, you and I," he said, "only fitting that there is a performance. Get up, Midnight, and occupy your mouth with my cock. You certainly don't seem to be using it for anything else."