Town center; just after the Danu's speech; open
Ordinarily, Tucker wouldn't have been caught dead at one of these ridiculous festivals. They were hardly for the Clovennians, though he had to admit he was pleasantly surprised to hear the main ritual itself being conducted in the language. It was difficult to be as analytical about everything as he might have been had it not been for the dog form, but for once, that was probably a blessing. Tucker was here all right, for spying purposes (and, if he was honest, to get out of the house for a bit, away from January's frigidness in the wake of Blair's arrival) and besides, it was the easiest thing in the world to blend in with all of these dogs running around. Despite all the Aurellian children touching him with their probably-filthy hands, the dog part of him did appreciate being fed snacks.
His ears cocked forward and he stood at particularly close attention when the leader of the ceremony proceeded to deliver his main speech in Clovennian, wondering vaguely if it was a personal choice or, more likely, the result of orders from some higher up in the church. Whatever the reason, it sounded like tripe, but he would at least give it credit for being very well-crafted tripe. Hope had a way of sounding particularly convincing.
At the end of the speech he sat up and scrached his right ear, tilting his head slightly as he decided where to go next. He hadn't yet made up his mind when his dog-sharp ears picked up the tiny squeal of a nearby child, some squawked Aurellian word that Tuck didn't need to have translated to know meant something along the lines of doggy! and he inwardly flinched, getting up to trot away, but too late -- the child was already on him.