The tail was distracting, even for the gambler. 

Parlé relied always and ever upon his stoic countenance in such a high stakes circumstance, perpetually perusing the players whilst always paying attention to what the proverbial dealer possessed in their grasp. However, the to and fro of the tip, similar to an incessant metronome, irked the curiosity of the bookie. 

Now, wholeheartedly gawking at Renée and her shouldered pet provoked a paradoxial inquisition within Alf.

All the wonder was, how this maiden, with her lack of worldly wisdom and agonizing consciousness of ridicule, could have been induced to take a measure at once so prudent and so laughable, as that of bringing an actual feline, but yet be invited to such a culpable chorale. A wardrobe decision both deliciously fatal but also lively, if the cards were played right. Was this woman's intent to obscure not only identity but alignment?

While the unmoving masks of immersed British people gabbed, Fred yearned to seep into the glow of such a chosen madness, for he adored all things cats. From the tapestry of [i]Bastet[/i], these animals were worshiped, offered often the same mummification as humans of import. Praised once for controlling plagues of snakes and rats, the domesticated mouser has now been forgotten as a symbol of grace and poise. 

To only be resurrected here, behind another veneer. Intriguing. This guest bandaged herself within this indistinguishable archetype while simultaneously hoisting a smaller icon, to foster, what message, pray-tell.

The ball, solemnized itself according to an anti-Episcopalian fashions and standards, in a closed venue, with a degree of possible publicity that would have attracted many spectators, due to the clumsy wheels of several old-fashioned coaches still mounting the overt exterior, if it were not for the heavily guarded front. 

Zorkybski who occupied the front seats of the galleries, decided to brush past the drinking Raven and the other pews of people. The mob, except the principal figure, seemed to be constructed mostly up of youth and gayety, opposing his impending fifth decade of experience. As he streamed up the broad aisle, pillars, entrenched intermittently into the wall, appeared to decay, with time, on either side. His steps became less buoyant and more cautious as if he suddenly mistook the ball-room for a church, ready to court a daughter in hand to the altar. 

Still was so brilliant was the costumed spectacle, to the parlay, that few took notice of his singular bee-like phenomenon, until he marked its entrance to the closest circle gathering around Schrödinger and his ostensible master. At the moment when the gambler's foot breached the threshold, the musical vibrations swung heavily in the foyer, sending forth its deepest knell to entreat all to bend the elbow and dance. 

This was a perfect opportunity to corner the likely disguised mistress, with a thick French accent.

[color=39b54a]"Enchanté! Care to dance, mademoiselle?"[/color]
[@Lady Selune][@shylarah][@Hekazu]