Yuka helped herself to the feast she was offered—attempted to try the fermented berries but found herself repulsed by its taste and the effects it had on her mind. The fete seemed to never cease, but the leopard's energy waned the longer she resided amongst the rambunctious canids, and eventually, she turned and subtly made her exit.
She didn't leave—merely took a moment to catch her breath, perching on a rock about half a mile away from the endless celebrations. She rasped her tongue over the broad pads of her forepaws, grimacing at the lingering taste of alcohol.
Nightfall always lulled Yuka into an impenetrable state of serenity. Stars glistened overhead, and the moon—now a mere sliver against the pitch sky—grinned down at her with an expression of clemency that the feline returned happily.
Even when her peace was interrupted by the sound of snow crunching beneath a set of paws, she was tranquil. Her ears twitched in acknowledgment, her long tail slithering to rest against the boulder.
Is someone there?She inquired softly toward the approaching footfalls, far too entranced by the scintillating stars to turn her head to see for herself.
