isolt griffin
Her intentions when extending invitations to the trio of Weres had been faultlessly pure and, perhaps, just as naively hopeful as many of Isolt's whims so oft tended to be. The young vampire had possessed no true and accurate notion of the depths of the recent discord that had settled itself within the once tightly-woven familial unit. This business, after all, was not hers within which to pry, nor did she dare quarry Nadya for affirmation of her suspicions. Even the beckoning finger of her own curiosity did not prove persuasive enough to lure the inquisitive red-haired woman to prod at what was surely a powder keg awaiting a properly-allocated flame. It was her fondest hope, as Nadya's none-too-passive statement slid into the air, that Isolt herself had not unknowingly provided the catalyst for the maelstrom to ensue.

So innocuous are her thoughts that Isolt does not for a moment consider reminding the fiery brunette of the fact that she, too, was yet considered company within this particular abode. True though it is, the thought does not tickle mind or mouth, Isolt offering nothing more than a strained smile in the young woman's direction before her attentions are diverted wholly to the introduction of a rather sizable tree into her living room along with whatever devious accoutrement Tobias had deemed suitable to deliver. Blue eyes linger upon both of the men in turn, Tetradore attempting valiantly and with some impressive measure of success to align the bit of flora he wished to erect whilst Tobias muddled about quirkily within the threadbare sack at his feet. An amused grin parts her ruby lips as the emerald-eyed man that Isolt had once feared with such vehemence turns to her. "It certainly wouldn't be the first time... my brother was a pretty disastrous Christmas tree-decorator when we were younger. I don't mind it at all."

A new recollection filters to the surface of her memory pool, casting ripples through the flashback of her moppy-haired older brother only half-heartedly attempting to adorn their small Christmas tree by showering it in flashy handfuls of tinsel... this one far fresher as it glides to the forefront of her mind's eye. She, too, recalls their dance upon the Ark and the strange and subtle... warmth that had overcome her for that briefest moment in time; but she does also recall the retrospectively alarming level of his inebriation that particular eve and the sobering notion that he, very plausibly, does not and could not recall even a shred of it. The consideration is brushed momentarily aside with a demure smile and a light shrugging of her petite frame. "Um... if you could help carry the turkey, I think I could manage everything else?"

She moves, momentarily, as if to venture back into the delectably-fragrant depths of her kitchen under the pretense of placing the finishing touches upon the meal she had created for them... before being stopped abruptly and effectively in her tracks by a pointed finger and a mildly off-putting scowl cast in her direction by Tobias. Without retort, Isolt moves her slender frame to the spot deemed "hers" by the half-leopard, innocent puzzlement pinching at her brows though, truly, she cares relatively little for her guest's reasoning on the matter and certainly not to the extent that she might debate his motives. The fine divots in her brow furrow only deeper as the fire-crowned vampire accepts with polite trepidation the peculiarly-swathed parcel he divests to her. The pregnant stare with which he regards her denotes without flaw that his wish is for her to unearth whatever unseen treasure lay within presently, and so Isolt makes short work of flipping back various folds of the towel to reveal what appears upon initial inspection to be a bundle of delicate fabric hidden beneath a silky headband complete with fuzzy triangular ears.

A smile blossoms upon her sweetheart lips at the understated thoughtfulness displayed by the presentation of the kitten ears, Tobias having so obviously taken her initial concerns to heart. In this moment it did not matter that having acquired something as simplistic as false ears would hardly alter the convictions of her previous opinion; and surely this addition would hardly persuade the other two individuals present to desire the companionship of a vampire purely for a shift in her aesthetics.

"Tobias that's really sweet of you, I... oh," the syllables dissolve upon her tongue as Isolt lifts upon delicate fingers what had laid so innocently beneath the cat ears. Intricately-woven black lace is suspended from her fingers for a time, the dainty strap to what was surely a diminutive pair of highly risqué women's undergarments. Isolt chews anxiously at the supple tissue at the inside of her lip as the fabric falls from her fingertips, a telling and fierce blush blossoming quickly upon the apples of her cheeks. A moment passes in which she cannot dare cast her eyes to any individual present before Isolt offers Tobias a smile that, she would hope, is satisfactorily reassuring and grateful. "Thank you," she offers in a mere whisper. It is to his merit that the leopard-boy moves about to his companions in the wake of Isolt's gifts, for truly she could not have formulated proper conversation should the need have arisen. In fact it is only as he moves to press the soft toys into the hands of Nadya that Isolt lifts her gaze from the now neatly-folded bath towel clasped within her hands. The gesture itself is an understatedly beautiful and intimate out-pouring of candid care, and one that draws its evident warmth into every fiber of Isolt's chilled frame... a soft smile pulling once more at her lips.

It is a moment marked by its brevity, however, as Tobias' gaze slices to her own. "Alright then," she offers, motioning cordially to the careworn dining room table upon which three place settings had been arranged. The fourth seating occupied only by a dainty glass of red wine. "You and Nadya make yourselves comfortable." Setting her present down upon the sofa, Isolt makes short work of the distance to the quaint little kitchen wherein the spoils of her afternoon of lovingly hard work lay perched upon nearly every free surface. Crystalline eyes peruse the entrance to the relatively small space, probing for the presence of the emerald-eyed man before extracting the perfectly-golden turkey from its place within the oven and carefully leaving it within his care. With a demure and thankful smile the young vampire gathers the remaining dishes upon her arms and meanders into the dining room to deposit them upon the thankfully-large table. It had been a mystery as to why such a large table had been acquired for merely two women, and yet today Isolt is blessedly thankful. The spread is a simple yet delicious one: a dish each of steaming green beans, buttery rolls, hearty stuffing and mashed potatoes set aside a carafe of luxuriously silky gravy. Placing herself at the empty setting and collecting the glass of wine betwixt her delicate fingers, Isolt turns to the emerald-eyed man in her wake to hand him a glistening carving knife. "Care to do the honors?"