The duckling mosh pit had successfully exhausted itself after fifteen minutes of aggressive peeping. As the fluffy fledglings collapsed into a pile of downy, sleepy feathers near the dessert table, Vali realized his duties as Master of Ceremonies were temporarily fulfilled.
It was time for his primary objective.
The silver wolf-cub jumped down from his barrel, slicking back the wild tufts of fur on his head. He took a deep breath, puffed out his chest to maximum capacity, and let his bright pink eyes scan the chaotic Warlord gardens.
He locked onto his target instantly.
