Aria, once she realized they were at their destination lake, began to solidify from her windwalking, and  hung back, hovering ten feet above the lake surface near the edge of the island.<br/><br/>The azure-skinned elf (who like the other two and their table appeared just the same under Kass's divination) took a long sip of his honeywine before answering, appraising Kass and the others airborne with the most vestigial of interest on his feature. He answered in a lazy but carrying voice, his speech casually singsong even by Elven standards, "How delightfully humorous, I was about to ask you the same. A picnic in this private paradise is our purpose and pleasure. "I am Elmorel. My handsome right hand here is Iankas," he briefly put his hand fondly across the shoulder of the barechested male, before reaching across himself to touch the nearer bare breast of the female, "Breora here is his cousin, as it happens. I am afraid I am not acquainted with this dragon," the other two elves had seemed slightly alarmed by Kass's statement, glancing all around at the sky and lake surface as if half-expecting to see some wyrm burst through the tranquil surface or descend from above, but Elmorel seemed more casual and confident as he looked about. "Have you business with it, then? As its thrall or guest, perhaps; or as determined dragonslayers?"<br/><br/>Elmorel reached back over to Iankas, his hand disappearing under the table to rub the silk-pantsed leg of the barechested male elf rather familiarly. "Iankas, sing us that lay, the one of Thauglorimorgorus the purple dragon who was humbled by the elves of Cormanthor even ere the humans came to Cormyr and a millennium ere they slew it!" His other hand disappeared into the female's lap. "Know you a dance to accompany it, Breora? If not, improvise, my flower, improvise!"