Blinking as he is addressed, Solin turns, ready to sigh at the question, give one of his practiced answers -

But then he stops, mouth hanging open for a moment or two. Herbert Von Krolock himself, dazzling and tall, excusing himself from the rest of the party to talk to...him?

Shaking himself a little, he smiles, fidgeting with his glass. "Why? Would - would it frighten you if I was? A spooky little thing on the edge of town?" The words are playful, soft-spoken, and - a little fluttery. Herbert is...he's very pretty. VERY pretty.

Solin's mouth is a little dry, actually. He finally sips from the untouched wine.