-rubber stamps "MY PACK HAS THE BEST GROUP MEETINGS" on all of your foreheads.- xD Srsly, I think this is the funniest pack thread ever. >>; Slight powerplay to keep it moving, let me know if it should be changed. o:
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In some vague way he was aware of his environment changing around him; a wistful sigh escaped him as Kaena's words filtered in from the background, though his ears flicked quickly as Razekiel stumbled out after him. The drug was tickling his senses, urging him to forgive and forget--most of them probably hadn't even known it was his birthday. And at least now, he thought with a snicker, he knew who the cool kids were. Something about Razekiel's idiosyncrasies and speech patterns never failed to amuse him, and this was true now more than ever. He rose from his seat at the terminus of the staircase and helped stabilise the blazed coyote, putting on a meek smile before nodding.
Yeah, man; I'm sorry. All of my other birthdays have been pretty weak... just didn't want a repeat, he admitted, which was strange by itself. He suspected Gabriel might be able to infer the less-than-desirable nature of his former birthdays, but Gabe was the only one he might have shared any explicit detail regarding his past. At the very least the Aquila would know he'd been away from Inferni this time last year--and the year before that, he was presumably kicking around the Waste by himself, existing in some pseudo-stable state that took root in apathy and indifference; with nobody around, he wasn't exactly miserable, but he couldn't have been very happy or felt he was fulfilling any purpose, either. Much as he'd felt around Kaena, he felt he'd gotten to know the dark prince in a truly minimal amount of time.
The caramel hybrid didn't have too much time to ponder the deep implications of fast friendships, however, for it sounded as if the entire party was shifting around behind them. They were migrating away from the balcony and closer toward the stairs; for a fleeting instant he frowned, wondering if anyone had bothered to secure his harvest before a stray breeze managed to scatter it all over the ground. The night was a deathly calm one, however, and he supposed he could take care of it later. Even while intoxicated as he was now, Anselm de le Poer never forgot anything he considered to be important.
By now the house was beginning to feel stuffy, and with everyone drawing nearer he realised he did not want to be left standing in some awkward circle in the middle of the foyer. He opened the door that led outside--the one where he'd found Ryan's note already too many weeks ago. Once outside he simply leaned against the cool, rough brick, closing his eyes and regarding the footsteps on the stairs with slight discomfort. He hadn't meant to shift the entire shindig downstairs--the balcony, as it offered an extended view, was far more desirable in his opinion. Then again, the estate's labyrinth of a garden might prove to be more fun--perhaps they could play some kind of game, but he wasn't sure that some of those who didn't want to drink or smoke would enjoy a game either. Maybe they were robots. His eyes opened wide as they converged on the entryway.