[She smiles sweetly at him over her shoulder and sidles past the people at the next table, shoving them unceremoniously out of her way. There's a very pointed sway of her hips, knowing that he is watching her, as she approaches the heron. He will have to lean a bit if he wants to see, some of his view blocked by the crowds milling about and socializing nearby.

There's a small but sharp cry from her as she suddenly "trips", spilling her wine all over the front of the heron's jacket.]

Oh, dear—! Silly me.

[Her voice takes on a completely different cadence, higher pitched and clumsy. And thus, the "let me clean that for you" scenario ensues. She had several ideas up her sleeve if this one did not work, but it had never failed her before. It would seem that high society falls for it just as easily as the lowest and worst taverns in Valisthea. Of course, it is that much more effective as she pulls out a handkerchief from the front of her dress, making eyes at the heron as she does.

With a press of her body to his, she cages him against the door that he is guarding and starts to dab the front of his jacket with the napkin.]

What lovely feathers you have...

[She watches as the heron's skinny throat bobs as he swallows when she slips her hand over one of his wings and around his hips where she thinks the keys might be hidden. There is a fleeting glance over her shoulder to Cid, and she smiles at him, a light breeze brushing past his cheek as she does. Is she trying to make Cid a little jealous? ... Maybe.]

Oh, does that tickle!?

[She lets out an uncharacteristic giggle when the heron squawks in amusement and pulls his wing away from her hand, but his eyes light up with curiosity at what she says next.]

I should have known, my own wings tend to be quite sensitive, too.