[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLjc5MDEwYy5WR2hoYm1VZ1YyaHBkR3h2WTJzLC4w/metal-macabre.regular.png[/img] [b]Location:[/b] The Celebration of course [b]Interactions:[/b] All the unimportant NPCs milling about [/center] [hr] Tholo had made his way to the open bar of the celebration, though he simply spoke with the fellow wolves he saw there and avoided any hard drinks after the previous night. The celebration was a blessing and a curse to him. It was a breath of fresh air but at the same time a plague in that he had to be a storyteller most of the night for any who wanted to hear about his ancestor. Tholo mostly kept his connection to the old legends to the Red Hood secret but one or two words might of slipped from few nights of to many drinks in the fight pits. Luckily the night so far seemed to have few of those questions and rather just good old banter and a few jabs from those who were smart enough to not challenge him in fights. Instead it led to an impromptu arm wrestling match against those wanting to test their might without unsheathing fangs and claws. Tholo humored them with a few rounds before making a quick and sneaky exit to wander around the grounds as the night grew darker.