Peter and Tiny made their way back downstairs. The house itself was still the same as they left it, but the whole energy of the party seemed to have transformed along with its occupants. The cliques had mostly split up, people were discretely splitting off for a brief tryst, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.
The two stopped for drinks before hunting down Peter’s feline friend. Tiny was clearly enjoying getting to show off his (newly acquired?) bartending skills. Peter was pretty sure the new “blushing pig” cocktail that Tiny made up on the spot was just a negroni riff, but it was still a cute gesture all the same.
They eventually found Chesh out back with a small gaggle of cat men. All of the masquerading felines at the party had suddenly heard of Prince Chesh and were enjoying the opportunity to meet someone famous. Eventually they started to peel off however and Peter was able to give Tiny a proper introduction.
“Now Peter, I thought you knew better than to consort with canines,” Chesh laughed. The posh affect he had been sarcastically using earlier on in the evening appeared to have stuck. He finally gave Tiny a polite bow, “It’s a pleasure to meet you my good wolf.”
“The honor’s all mine,” Tiny chuckled softly.
“I bet you wished you picked a better mask nyoa, huh?” Chesh wagged in amusement at the sight of his friend.
Peter rubbed his snout, “It actually turned out pretty well all things considered.”
“Well I’m just glad to see a familiar-ish face,” Chesh’s whiskers twitched, “I thought I was going crazy for a moment before someone realized it was my first time and explained what’s going on.”
“Oink, I know the feeling,” Peter chuckled and looked up at Tiny. When he turned his gaze back towards Chesh, Peter noticed a cat he remembered seeing earlier. He leaned in towards Chesh, “Hey, who’s the security cat with the earpiece?”
His highness adjusted his crown gently, dipping his head towards the snow leopard a few paces behind him, “Nyao, you know Mitch from my detail Peter.”
The spotted cat was wearing a crisp black suit and a discrete small headset in one ear. He must have been the only person in the whole party without a drink. When Peter kept staring, he gave the pig a nod of recognition before going back to scanning the crowd.
Peter was surprised to vaguely have some memory of the snow leopard driving the two here. “Yeah, but who is he?”
Chesh wagged sheepishly, “I have no idea. I turned around and he just there.”
“Huh, that’s a new one for me,” Tiny rubbed the end of his muzzle.
The three stood around chatting for a bit. Chesh got them caught up on some of the party’s antics while they were off “getting acquainted”. There were a couple of memorable first-timers-trying-to-tug-their-mask-off freak outs that Chesh wouldn’t confirm or deny him being a part of. Apparently one of the guys in a rubber mask fell into the pool and turned into a pool toy. The live band that had gone with the Día de Muertos theme for the night had also apparently not noticed becoming an undead band.
Eventually everyone’s drinks were starting to run low. Tiny glanced back towards the mansion, “Arf, there’s a few regulars I’m hoping to sniff out tonight. Do you mind if I go explore for a bit?”
Peter sipped the last bit of his cocktail, “Oh, sure!”
Tiny wagged, “You’re welcome to come with if you want! You two are coming to the next masquerade, right?”