"Oh, sure!" She hands over a couple of the trays obligingly, setting down the leftover ones on the edge of the coffee table in the middle of the living room. With her wine glass balanced on top, until she deftly reclaims it.

"It varies, at Gutters. This one," she inclines her head at Ilde, "should not be wandering around there alone, for the record. Don't make a face at me, at least half of all vampires are paralyzingly short-sighted and won't think of the consequences for going after you alone."

Ilde being the vampire version of a small and highly coveted dessert of some kind, like an eclair or a macaron.