It was a confusing transition from one thing to the next. Without warning, men dressed in fancy clothes began to play muted and subdued music, as the castle's kitchen staff hauled in a train of white clothed carts, loaded with food and drink. Party guests began to mill about in an unintelligible babble of talk, as others wandered haphazardly near the provided comestible displays.

Cedar was gripped by even more new-found anxiety: It was clear and obvious that he was SUPPOSED to be meeting and talking with the other guests-- a thing that worried him. What if he said or did something wrong? Then there was the food-- just sitting there, waiting to be eaten-- that endless hail of advice his dad had given him about what was expected in more social human gatherings (and not the sort he and his father enjoyed in the village inn with their drinking friends, but more the 'if you should ever have one (which he had not, as of yet), fancy and formal kind') continued to rattle around his thoughts. He was worried, and acted such.

Discretely, he watched the guests at the buffet, noting how much of each entree or hors d'oeuvres they had selected, getting a handle on how much would be "proper" to select without making an ass of himself, then got up to make his own table run.

The serving man eyed him with an expressionless mouth paired with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.

"And what will sir be having tonight?" he asked stiffly, but pleasantly-- almost as if he had rehearsed this. Momentarily, Cedar wondered if this man had been working in the kitchens above the pantry, while he and Yvonne had been drinking earlier that day. He discretely wondered if he had already made an ass of himself, and was just now coming to realize it.

"[color=7bcdc8]oh uh.. uh'll has da roas' beef an...[/color]" he sniffed discretely "[color=7bcdc8]onions.. [/color]"

"Chipped beef and shallot au'vine, for the gentleman" he murmured, then gracefully plated a helping for him. "Will that be all sir?"

Everything on the table was a menagerie of things he could not easily identify. --Oh, he could tell what was IN them, more or less, from how they smelled, but for the most part, he had never even SEEN these things prepared before. Half the items he would normally just consume raw. This was especially true of the vegetable dishes, all of which were cooked to the point of superb tenderness, from appearances, and prepared quite elaborately. With names like "Chipped beef and shallot au'vine", and not "Roast beef with onions in a fancy sauce", he was at a loss for how to even order.

"[color=7bcdc8]Uh... sum ah dis, an... sum ah dat..[/color]" he finally managed, pointing at two promising vegetable dishes, one of which was obviously made with forest mushrooms, but he could not identify with what they had been paired.

"Salsify with creme sauce, and  Ricotta Gnudi with Chanterelles." the man intoned "Excellent choices, sir. And what will sir have to drink this evening?"

For a moment, he considered the propriety of asking for a tall mug of ale, or perhaps another helping of the mead, but noted that such offerings did not seem to be available, or at least, did not seem popular with the food being served, judging from the aromas in the room. Not a hint of either one. 

"[color=7bcdc8]Uh'll as'cept ya own judgemen' on 'at[/color]" he drawled nervously. The serving man made the faintest hint of a snide smile.

"Might I suggest a nice chardonnay?" the man said, while extending a bottle in white gloved hands. The bottle was well stoppered, and he could not detect any of its fragrance over the blizzard of scents the food was putting off. He decided that he should just go for it. "[color=7bcdc8]U'll take it.[/color]"

The man expertly popped the cork off the bottle, then poured a single, thin-stemmed glass cup, the likes of which Cedar had never seen before, about half full, then handed it to him. "In Sir's good health." he said demurely, as cedar accepted it.  The tiny glass vessel felt impossibly small, and even more impossibly fragile. How ANYONE could hold one without breaking it into dozens of tiny pieces worried him. Even more so, that the vessel would be very difficult for him to drink from. He thanked the man, then carefully returned to his table with his plate and glass, to resume his people-watching.

He stabbed several of the "chips" of the beef on the absurdly small fork they had provided him with (well, one of the forks anyway) and put it in his mouth, leaning forward discretely to avoid looking 'too much' like a beast. It was difficult to eat with human manners intact, especially with such tiny and absurd utensils.

A woman dressed in a shimmery blue (or maybe dark purple? It was always impossible for him to tell) evening gown had made her run to the table, and had engaged Jazdia and Yvonne, interrupting the two's apparently private conversation. A somewhat rotund man with short, well-trimmed sandy-brown hair and matching beard with mustache was at her side, as if the two were joined at the hip.

He did his best to try and get a taste of this ... 'chardonnay' .. whatever that was. The cup was especially troublesome, being too small around for his muzzle to fit inside of, and the beverage too deep down its slender form to easily reach from the top discretely, forcing him to have to use it in the most socially awkward manner possible: Reaching his long tongue down inside to lap it out.

...