Drunk People are Fun, Shapeshifters Aren't

I went to a friend's birthday party last night.  Pajama theme.  A lot of fun.  Most of the guests were over 21 so there was quite a bit of drinking.  Nothing wrong with that, but it's a lot of fun to be a prude in the middle of a bunch of drunk people.  The party progresses.  We dance.  People get drunker and drunker.  Clothing is shucked.  It's really kind of funny to just sit back and watch it all.

Come 3 AM.  The DJ is winding down, those who drank are entering incoherence, and I'm about to be asked to be some drunk person's last resort.  Time to go.  Lo and behold, two attractive young ladies stroll in.  They're dressed in gauzy little numbers and for a few minutes I seriously consider staying.  Then a large white pair of wings unfurls from one of their backs and I change my mind.  Damn it.

Swan Maidens.  You hear a lot of legends about them.  In spite of the stories, they really enjoy "dalliances" with normal men.  They don't ever do anything with lasting consequences, so I usually leave them alone when they show up.  The non-predator therianthropes aren't usually a problem.  The partygoers were too inebriated to remember them, anyway.  (And the ones who weren't won't believe their own memories.  Nobody ever does.)

On the bright side, I managed to swipe a canister of salt from the kitchen on the way out.  (Stealing is wrong, but I'm too paranoid to care right now.)  So at least my room wards are back up.

Incidentally, here is a common representation of a swan maiden.  They're impressive, but not this impressive.

Caer Ibormeith The Swan Maiden by ~Quicksilverfury on deviantART