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She shrugged, "Mum said goo' thin's come ta those who wai'. I betcha' be a goo' Da'. 'Ou go' onna' those faces." She smiled and swung her legs, forgetting she was on two legs and fell flat backwards off the chair. Honey would land on the floor with a thump, bouncing the back of her head off the floor and curl up holdin' her head with a series of garbled swears that would make a sailor blush.

Honey blushed bright red, 'too close too close too close'. But the pain was gone. Wait- the pain was gone? Her head didn't hurt! She gasped, her eyes growing wide and her smile wider, her tone was a little loud but it was from pure excitement, "'OWA! Wha' you'rea wizar'! 'Ow'd 'ou do tha'! Lord abo'e thassa' righ' miracle tha' was!"

It was like materia from Final Fantasy. She was now convinced she'd lost her mind. This was real? All this was real? Honey issued a sound possibly only hearable by dogs, almost a high F but more off the scale and not a scream- there was something else to it, the sheer excitement wrapped up in it was heavy... contagious. Oh if her eyes could get any bigger they'd pop out of her head- her face hurt from smiling. She would accept the glass but wouldn't drink from it. She was speechless. Astounded. Oh this place was a landmine of song writing material!

Her pink hair seemed to fluff up a bit, baby blues looking from Azana to him and to the glass, over and over- it was like she just didn't know who to talk to. The glass was seeming like a fantastic option. Nope she'd lost it for a moment. Lord above she must have gone looney on the way over- people like this really existed. Honey would resemble the cat who swallowed the canary, all she could get out was, "Lord abo'e- eithe' I gon' ma' or I'm 'avin' a stro'e. Demons, wizar', ps'chics- nex'll be tal'in armo' an an'els."

Honey took the offered hand and was up in a tick. She was watching and listening to Azana though- 'pretty face on that one, good match'- very slowly Honey's excitement was coming down. 'Catsuit? Now tha's som'thin' a girl needs. Guaran'e she looks righ' pro'er innit too Luc'y, Bloke.' Her pink hair seeming to smooth a bit and her smile going from ear to ear to just a bit wide, "An' this is norma'? All t'is is rea'... Mum's gonn' thin' I'm tha' loon when she 'ears abou' it all."

Honey giggled and shook her head. "Righ' mad it is." Oh! Right! ""Oo! 'Appy Bela'ed Anniversary, Lo'e."

Honey bobbed her head, "An' 'ere I am jus' a musician n tagga'. Luc'y me fin'in this pla'e. 'Ou all a rea' nice fol' 'ou are." She beamed sunshine and danced from foot to foot. Setting the glass on the counter, Honey crossed her arms over her chest, "All this is real an I still canno' fin' a girl 'oo can stan' fishsti's and custa' - bah ba' luck for me then innit? My poor liddle 'ead- oh, Gov, than's for tha' wassit cure? Wo'e up wit' a screamin' 'eadache- fixed it wit' righ' up."

Early in the morning Kiran rose and headed downstairs. He made himself some tea and settled in at the bar. Early mornings were the best, the symphony silence with the gentle twittering of birds. He sat and watched as the pink haired young woman bounded downstairs and outside.

He sipped his tea- seems he wasn't the only early riser any longer. He had no doubt in his mind she was out for a jog and after a half hour of bliss she returned. He watched as she ran up and down the stairs a few times- his ears twitching to the sound of... was that Madame Butterfly? Yes... it was. And then the little thing was gone.

Kiran sighed relieved the little thing had paid him no notice.

Kiran yelped, his hand flying over his heart and tea cup clattering onto the table. HOW WAS IT THINGS KEPT SNEAKING UP ON HIM!? He began to hyperventilate, gasping for air, patting his pockets he found he was without his inhaler. It was upstairs. Kiran wheezed unable to catch his breath.

Honey came downstairs. Blinking at this little mess- the long eared chap was gasping for air. "'Oy, Teemo, whatcha' done'?"

Kiran looked to the pink haired girl, his lips tinging blue on the edges- he made a gesture for an inhaler and signed his room number. His lungs were on fire, throat locked up- he was desperate for air. He gasped like a fish out of water, curling in on himself.

Honey, luckily a bright girl, ran up the stairs and to the room. The door was sure enough open but a new problem arouse- she had no idea where his inhaler was. She began to go through the drawers of the nightstand.