Isiah growled softly at the contents of his wine glass. Not because they had displeased him, but because it was not long till full-moon. Only a handful of nights, his bones said to him, and the texture of the heavy summer air and the smell of the wind confirmed it. It was a tempting, teasing him with the prospect of freedom; the freedom to stalk the dark streets, paws on cobbles, the night his to own and do with as he liked. Or rather, as the Council dictated he could.
He growled again, and drained the glass, unable to taste it as it slid down his throat, glancing back towards the crowds, his daughter among them. Making human friends, no doubt her mother would be pleased- although to what extent one could be friends with a species that had once been the main portion of one's diet he did not know. He sighed, glancing back towards a window and the gathering dusk, hoping that tonight would provide some small entertainment.