Legolas jumps down from the stage, exhausted from performing. The fine silk flowing from the silver wrist cuffs nearly trips him, not helped by the heavy decorative chains around his waist.

The Frost Moth pulls his alabaster white hair out of its ponytail, letting it fall back to its usual length. His crystal eyes flit about the dim backstage area, watching the gears turn and workers scurry around.

“One cannot understand how they keep so much energy.” The Snow Elf mutters quietly.