Mammals of all sizes flitted past, laughing and drinking without a care in the world. A few stepped on your spotted tail and mumbled apologies. But no one actually spoke to you, and you liked it that way. The drink in your hand was growing warm and you'd only taken a few sips. Maybe you could slide it onto a server's tray without anyone noticing.

Then your shoulder was jostled, sending your lukewarm champagne splashing onto someone's coat.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" the nervous voice to your left made your large serval ears swival. A Canadian lynx was standing beside you with his dark green suit now soaked. Most guests would blame you for the spill, but he seemed convinced it was all his fault.

"It's okay, I wasn't drinking it anyways," you reassured him, snatching some napkins off a nearby table. The lynx fumbled to wipe up the mess. He was definitely on the awkward side, but there was something else to him. A jerky-ness to his motions that spoke of someone who was easily upset but didn't express it out loud.

He huffed a little before remembering you could hear him. His amber eyes seemed to darken a fraction before he smiled at you. But even that was strained. "Sorry. Again. I was just..uh.. avoiding my older siblings. I'm Pawbert."