Mafyyil has dressed up for the party, too: a surprisingly tasteful simple sleeveless moss green dress and matching slippers. She wears her hair in a braid today, interwoven with the peonies growing out of her shoulder and arm. Even the bright pink hairclips in the shape of tiny combine harvesters are unusually inoffensive. She does wear her shoulder holster holding her gun over the dress, but that was to be expected.

Intimidated by the commotion in the kitchen, Mafyyil - who had been planning to find something to eat but thought better of it - decides to say hello to the mothlings instead. Mothlings are cute, after all. And there are new people to meet!

"Hello Remi", she says, smiling brightly. "How are the mothlings today?" She also hums a short melody in the general direction of the mothling near Xiulan's hand in greeting. (She hopes her offkey humming is not too painful for the moths.) "Hello Ione. And hello new person!" She musters Xiulan openly. "I'm Zagfehan Mafyyil, poet. I'd shake hands except there seems to be a mothling in the way."