Magic. It was the only word that Minerva could think of as she stood in the crowd of hidden faces and covered up bodies at the Ball. Pure, mystical magic. Not being one to put herself out there, the young Griffith always struggled to feel confident among her peers, but she had gone out of her way to mask herself as much as possible for tonight. It was a masquerade after all, and from what she heard from others it was expected that you come masked and try to hide your identity.
Perhaps it was possible she put too much thought into it, being an over achiever and eager to please she had quickly put together a delicate leather mask with large raven feathers needled through, with tips dipped in sticky tree sap for good measure. For an outfit she had quickly found Darius to request a simple gown in exchange for some rabbit pelts and a handful of odds and ends she had found in Halifax. It wasn’t much but Darius was more eager to make his fellow Cavaliers look stunning, likely in hopes of getting more future commissions. Before she entered the Court, Minerva had spent the day dusting her fur and rubbing against the trees of the neutral territories in hope of dampening her scent. Of course she had warmed up a pail of water to wash herself fully before the evening began.
Now, fully dressed in a beautiful but simple maroon gown and her dark mask, she watched the crowd unsure of what she should do. The Queen of these lands had given a short welcome, announcing some things that did not apply to the Cavaliers, before starting the music. Around her canines were beginning to feast, drink, and dance, and she knew that she would seem quite out of place if she didn’t pick an activity. Waltzing over to one of the tables she found the nearest drink and picked it up. Before she knew what it was she had taken a sip. Her face soured at the taste of alcohol but she dared not insult someone by putting it down. Instead she stood, moving only a few feet away, to finish off the drink while taking in the atmosphere.
Tonight was also an important night for Minnie. The last time she had attended a Ball she had been almost half her age, and hardly could be called an adult. Very recently she had ascended to the Officer ranks, along with earning the job title of Spiritual Advisor. It was quite a bit of pressure on the young women, but at least among her home she seemed to be the most curious about exploring the spirits and divines. With the new titles came the stress of wanting to appear confident, adult, and proper. As time ticked she refilled the drink, feeling the cider drink starting to take affect and help her relax. Maybe after one more she would have the confidence to ask someone to dance? It was rather silly to continue to stand off to the side.
OOC: 500+ words