"Fairy wine is worse than fairy food," comes a voice at her side, along with a gentle touch to her arm. Nothing to hold her, just to offer a bit of caution, and it pulls away almost as quickly.

From the back, Abigail hadn't recognised her, only seen the bracelet that marked her as a mortal player in this game of the fae. Which was why she was keen to stop her from drinking. Even if it smelled divine when it was poured. She'd been here for what seemed to be half a day or so. Hunger was starting to set in. But it had to be resisted.