Allen knows a thing or two about being a bird. Usually in his case, though, it's on purpose. He had joined this revel in order to investigate, dissolving his glamour long ago in an attempt to save his magic in case of an emergency. But so far, he's got nothing but a bunch of idiots tripping into faerie traps, transformations, and creepy animals. It could almost be funny how fruitless all his efforts turn out to be.

Needing some distance, he steps closer to the tree line, only to spot a strange bird perched on a branch. There's something . . . familiar about it. The bird doesn't have the same animal feel as the other creatures stalking about this "fair," though it still seems faerie. Is it perhaps someone who drank the punch?

Allen cocks his head curiously, the movement itself birdlike. "Hello."