<span style="font-family:Quicksand"><span style="font-size: 22px">E</span>nzo set his drink down in the same ring of condensation that it had been previously residing. Some call it OCD, to him it was just a habit. It was rare that the man went completely sober. Bourbon was a definite weakness of his. He frequently had a glass in his hand, two ice cubes rattling around as he walked around camp. Today, however, he was seated in a booth in solitude. His blue eyes seemingly glued to the television, though glazed over as he pondered. Part of it was the beautiful feeling of nostalgia, but most of it was pure avoidance of a grand feast being prepared back at the pack grounds. He did enjoy being social but there was little for him to gain from sitting around in attire he'd otherwise never wear, mindlessly chatting with the other wolves of the pack. It's not that he didn't like the other members. Enzo just had better things to do with his spare time. Like, drink in the pack owned bar within the human town. <br/>
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He glanced around, a few of the mentioned species chatting and enjoying the bar like they naturally do. It was also natural for them to be disgustingly driven by lust. That fact became very apparent as the bartender, a fellow member of his pack, was grabbed. He watched, not at all phased by the action of the man or the lady. She was well equipped to take care of herself. There was little need for him to get involved. As soon as the interaction was concluded, his eyes went to the glass on his table before he swallowed the rest of it's contents. <br/>
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When he saw the girl wrap up her shift for the over sized picnic, Enzo let out a sigh, figuring that if he was late, he might as well be late with another wolf. Hopefully Tatum wouldn't be taking incredibly long to get ready. He didn't want to be the last to arrive and ruin his own night.<br/>
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Once he was back at the house designated for the sentinels, the broad shouldered man gazed through his close to find something suitable for the evening. "Go big or go home" was a motto he very much lived by, so it wasn't difficult to pick out a gray dress shirt, black slacks and a pair of matching dress shoes. His golden cuff links were the outfit's completion, a gift from a friend back in the day and a chunk of history from World War 2. They were old, but he had been sure to keep them in mint condition. In the mirror he tucked in the shirt and put a little gel in his hair. It was a foreign act. Enzo barely recognized himself, looking the outfit up and down with doubt lining the frown on his face. It was a very different look from his typical tee shirt, jeans and combat boots. Oh well. He would wear it with pride.<br/>
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Stepping outside, the smell of their meal was quick to enter his nose. It was very pleasing. With his hands stuck in his pockets, Enzo walked over to the table and gave a respectful nod to Zephyr. His eyes then drifted to Valeria, one of the newest wolves in their midst. Her confidence didn't threaten him in the slightest. In fact it was quite the opposite. It was magnetizing, curiosity lacing his vision as he gave her a nod as well. Seeing that the pair was hinting at conversation, that brought the gaze of the man to the omega. <b>"Neviah,"</b> he greeted warmly, walking to stand beside the small girl. <b>"I think you can stop stressing about the plates, darling, the table looks beautiful."</b></span>