[After spending much of the party watching festivities, trying to remain as ignored as possible, he came to the conclusion that he was far too sober to be dealing with this. The constant chattering of people was grating on his nerves, and the scent of wine was nostalgic. May as well have a drink for the first time in... who knew how many years, and hope it helped to make putting up with the partygoers easier.
No sooner had he made his way towards the table did he immediately regret his decision. While some noticed and were cautious to get out of his way, others assumed him harmless and thus didn't pay him much mind. After about the third time one such person bumped into him trying to get by, Illidan decided the wine was a lost cause and slowly tried to make his retreat. It was easier said than done. Without getting anyone underfoot.
Thus, he started subtly bumping anyone who bumped into him back with his wing, to passive aggressively maintain the sanctity of his personal space bubble. Unless they were small enough for him to stumble over, not an uncommon occurrence for one his size. Should anyone dare gawk at him too long, he would scowl their way and hiss a sharp "What?", before trying to continue his retreat.
Really, he was made for killing demons, not civil social gatherings. But he tried.]
no subject
No sooner had he made his way towards the table did he immediately regret his decision. While some noticed and were cautious to get out of his way, others assumed him harmless and thus didn't pay him much mind. After about the third time one such person bumped into him trying to get by, Illidan decided the wine was a lost cause and slowly tried to make his retreat. It was easier said than done. Without getting anyone underfoot.
Thus, he started subtly bumping anyone who bumped into him back with his wing, to passive aggressively maintain the sanctity of his personal space bubble. Unless they were small enough for him to stumble over, not an uncommon occurrence for one his size. Should anyone dare gawk at him too long, he would scowl their way and hiss a sharp "What?", before trying to continue his retreat.
Really, he was made for killing demons, not civil social gatherings. But he tried.]