Day of Thanks // Harvest Festival

[agathe.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]Never before had Agathe been posed with such an interesting question. The snow leopardess did not consider herself to be a thankful individual and felt herself scrambling to offer something to Atticus and Atbash. It felt wrong to merely intrude upon this lovely festival without participating anyways, and she hardly wished for something of that nature to, goddess forbid, reflect poorly upon herself. Perhaps she was selfish for only entertaining the idea of thankfulness for the sake of this food, but it was a wholly misunderstood concept to the Astral Seraph. Maybe they knew that. Maybe they did not. Regardless, she tried to model her speech after Atbash's (who, in her opinion, could not be beat when it came to the topic of thankfulness).

"I'm thankful for," Agathe paused only to release a quick, two-note whistle that sent Whitethorn careening down towards her from where he had been moments before, the bird taking its designated place on her shoulder, "This lazy ass." A glimmer of amusement clung oh-so faintly to her words and, if one looked close enough, even the ghost of a smile could be detected upon her usually twisted features. "And the Ascendants," She added after a moment's more of thought, idly taking her place at what she presumed to be her designated seat. She almost cringed after realizing that she was the head of the table, but made no comment. She'd get used to it eventually.