[If asked when last he laughed and meant it, Hannibal Lecter would have been hard pressed to say. It doesn't even occur to him why he's here instead of catching up on the reading he wanted to do tonight. Not when there's light and laughter that he's part of instead of on the edges of.]
[Around his neck is a black wolf's mask, hanging by matching ribbons for now as he tries to match the steps of his dance partner's. By the end, he has to stop and catch his breath. Why that mask? It reminded him in equal part of long ago fear and nostalgia for his homeland. Black wolves of massive size hunted in and around his father's castle, something he had watched more than once. The sort he had encountered the night he had tried to save his parents, friends and servants bodies from their jaws. When he wears it, his eyes look all the more red among the smoothed back jet fur.]
[He picks up a glass of wine and grins, caught up in the song and high atmosphere.]
no subject
[Around his neck is a black wolf's mask, hanging by matching ribbons for now as he tries to match the steps of his dance partner's. By the end, he has to stop and catch his breath. Why that mask? It reminded him in equal part of long ago fear and nostalgia for his homeland. Black wolves of massive size hunted in and around his father's castle, something he had watched more than once. The sort he had encountered the night he had tried to save his parents, friends and servants bodies from their jaws. When he wears it, his eyes look all the more red among the smoothed back jet fur.]
[He picks up a glass of wine and grins, caught up in the song and high atmosphere.]