Wiggle Room

It seemed as though the mead that she'd been reaching for was a hot commodity. Another reached for it as well and they both drew their paws back. Resin brought her lone eye up to scan the face of the man. He was... not what she expected. Like she, he was scarred. Like she, he had odd teeth. Like she, he was large. And, like she, he wasn't a youngling.

Black ears swiveled forward as his low tones rumbled smoothly towards her. Complimenting words. Apparently this was his nephews party. Honestly, Resin hadn't even known what the event was about. She was simply here to make sure that Tamsyn was okay as she sowed her wild oats. The man continued, stating that she wasn't like the rest. This, she knew. He compared her to a tiger among kittens. Perhaps it was the mead talking, but she found the comment to be incredibly amusing. Blackened, scarred lips parted, flashing rows of serrated teeth momentarily. Her own tones were low and a bit gravely. "It seems I've run into the unexpected, myself."

Taking up the mead that he'd declined to select, the grey woman lifted the flask to her maw, taking a decent sip. She then extended her paw, offering it to the toothy man. "Resin," she gave her name. "And you are?"