september 2001
Luna had been in Argentina when the tragedy had unfolded. The zoo in Nigeria had lost its animals, which she was mostly okay with, being a member of the school of thought that animals shouldn’t be caged and ogled at. But when she heard about Snuggles, her heart had practically broken in two. Then the news of the gala had reached her once she was back in England and she had one of the best ideas she could think of. She would have to miss her father’s birthday for it, but he was one hundred percent on board with her plan.
It would be a peaceful protest, of course. At least, it would be peaceful unless she needed to make it otherwise to get the job done.
Still, she was heading into the whole thing with the idea of a peaceful resolution on her mind. The woman, still a rather amateur magizoologist, had been unable to secure her own invitation to the gala. But she knew people, and those people knew people with invitations, and Luna had managed to talk
@Arden Dasher into taking her along with her. She was completely upfront with her plan and hadn’t once tried to talk her out of it.
Her dress was something she was quite proud of: she had found various publications about the event and other events in Snuggles’ life, including when the zoo had first acquired him and when his lady rompo had given birth to quadruplets. She had stitched together all the stories together to form herself an outfit, the black and white print looking like it was moving with her every step, just as the photos were actually moving. It was a short dress but had a full skirt, and she had piled her nest of hair up on her head, barrettes with individual letters stuck strategically between her locks, spelling out the name ‘Snuggles’.
Luna missed the look she received from the man checking invitations at the door, already looking past him to try and survey the surroundings and pinpoint the best location to get everything started. But first, she wanted to at least let people who might be there out of actual concern for Snuggles, rather than to make themselves look good to the public eye, enjoy themselves, and she put her planning on hold.
“Oh look, they’re having an auction. Let’s go look.” She grabbed a puff pastry filled with something earthy from a passing tray and stuffed it into her mouth as she set off across the large room, practically carving a path for them as people stepped aside to let the uniquely-dressed girl through.
