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[Ditto Armunn]

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Melnibonean wine had been a bad idea. At a time when she was suppose to be keeping a clear head about her, she'd allowed her baser desires to takeover. She MUST stop drinking the stuff. What was it about the wine that made it so very hard to resist? Surely it's tase was sweetly erotic and the warmth that flowed through her veins was welcome indeed. She realised, even now, that she still was not completely free from what had transpired when she had touched the well of memory. The natural instinct that her race had to pursue pleasure had once nearly caused self-genocide. She'd have to be more careful than ever not to lose herself. Too much was at stake.
Turning her head slowly to look across the bedchamber was, at the moment, a major effort . Squinting against the glow of the fireplace to see more clearly to make sure that the form in the bed was in fact her husband, and that she hadn't mistakenly roamed into someone else's room. A lopsided grin appeared on her face as she remembered an incident earlier in the evening where she mistook Darmug's magical beastform for her husband. " Poor Darmug. Dear Darmug. It is good for both of us that you are wise, " she mused to herself.

Her wondering mind brought her of thinking of faces of friends she'd seen briefly but had not yet had an oppurtunity to talk with, except for those rare occassions when she could offer a hello. She should and would make a better effort at catching up with people. Perhaps, with her husband now involved in more political affairs, she should start with those around him. Most people involved in the Regency and other governments didn't frequent the places that she did, and that posed the problem of just casually running into them as she had some so far. Hmmm...there was the ball, but that was still next week. Most of the people she knew were very busy people so she couldn't just march into their homes or offices to chat. What to do? Glancing around the room, she spotted the desk. Letters! She coud begin a mission to write everyone she could think of, a short letter. Oh dear, she'd be busy for years! Well, the very least she could do was to try. She'd start first thing in the morning, she concluded.

A deep grumbling sound drew her attention more closely to the bed. Remembering how her husband had asked her not to drink the special wine unless he himself were near, Ditto thought it best not to bother him with the knowledge that she had not done so this time. Why worry him? He had more important things to dwell on. Reasoning that she was keeping her intoxication from him for his benefit, she stumbled quietly to the bedside. Once there, her eyes opened wide in amazement. It seemed that her bed had grown taller...ten feet taller! Or had she shrunk? She glanced about the room to check and make sure a certain lady friend wasn't playing tricks on her. Seeing the bed again, it appeared now that it was normal. Hmmm...her eyes were still playing tricks on her. Better check and make certain the man in the bed was Tarothin.
Hiking up her skirt in a most unlady like fashion, Ditto climbed into the bed and up onto the sleeping man who smiled a boyish smile in his sleep. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Ditto gently pried open one of his eyes. The deep crystal blue coloring of both eyes confirmed who it was she was looking at, and who was looking at her. With brow raised in curiosity, Tarothin, was studying his wife's apparent drunken condition and the smell of melnibonen wine was thick in the air.