Satyrs? They're fey, like Alura...But what are they doing in her woods?<br/><br/>The lovely Dryad's curiosity is piqued - Her gaze lingering on their very, very impressive forms, for a moment...Before one of the Satyrs draws a shortsword. Their intent is clear - Alura arches a slim eyebrow, as they draw closer to Grish...At any other time, she'd be content to (as they say) let nature take it's course-<br/><br/>...Except she might have need of the goblin yet.<br/><br/>"My...What do we have here?" Alura's lissome legs carry her forward, as she steps from the treeline...The lovely Dryad manifesting at last, her gossamer robes fluttering around her voluptuous form - the moonlight caressing her pale blue skin, dark hair framing her lovely features. She's hardly hostile...Her expression a quizzical one, her voice pitched to carry to the Satyrs!<br/><br/>"-It's rare for me to have guests in these parts," she says - Moving with an easy grace, her hands open and empty at her sides. "I might have a use for this goblin, yet...I'll thank you not to kill him out of hand." Her lips curve, in a slight smile. "That is, unless you can give me a<em>good</em>reason..."