In a world full of hybrid creatures where predators were considered ‘above’ the prey, you didn’t get a lot of recognition at your job as a bartender. Most ignored. Some catcalled. But, tonight was different. Kovo slid down into a barstool, running a hand through his white, ruffled hair. He seemed to be a snow leopard. A pretty uncommon type who often lived in colder climates. What was he doing in California? “Can I get a Vodka Cran??” he yells over the blaring voices around them. It was a particularly busy night.