[Zephyr's POV]
Silence. After I spoke, a complete and utter silence descended upon the stall and the surrounding crowd, thick enough to swallow the distant festival music. Every face was turned toward me, eyes wide, expressions frozen in various stages of shock and recognition. They looked as if they were staring at a ghost who had just strolled out of a storybook and demanded a drink. I couldn't help it; a soft, slightly unsteady chuckle escaped me.
I pushed myself upright from my casual lean, and as I did, the wrought-iron lamppost beside me groaned softly. I glanced at it. It was bent at a slight angle, the metal warped where my shoulder had been resting. Ah. Did I do that? Still smiling ruefully, I reached out, placed a hand on the cool metal, and gave it a gentle, corrective push. The metal resisted for a second, then yielded with a soft creak, straightening back to perfectly vertical again. There. Good as new.
