His POV
It was odd, not having the company of his birds. The feeling was only intensified with the company he was surrounded by. Though the wolves were on their best behavior, he still found them to be grotesque in their manners. The way they enjoyed their food, and the way they displayed themselves to one another with so much touch to not even be mates; it was near revolting. Of course, the alphas did not behave this way. They were already resigned to their mates, and old enough to have grown weary of such behaviors. It was their young that was still trying to find their way through the world that nearly made him raise his lip in disgust.  

Then, there was a shifting among the wolves. They sensed their queen grow near and the higher ranks moved closer to the doors so that it was their faces she would first see. The dancing had stopped and all eyes were on the single woman now. The dress and feathers she adorned herself with was a pleasant surprise. In all the rises he had seen, none had made it seem so effortless nor so stunning despite the simplicity.

Seeing her eyes move among the crowd, he noticed they strayed to one in particular. The look returned from the male was obvious, and something stirred inside him. A ruffle of feathers he hadn't felt in quite some time, paired with a burning he had never experienced before. It was quizzical, yet demanding. But he did not leave his shadows to ease the fluster he felt in the wolf queen's presence; in his queen's presence. Rank was of the more valuable thing here, and clearly he was not an alpha, and would not assert himself to the front to be among them.

*You have seen her.* he told himself, but even though that was all he had come to do he knew he could not leave. Like a bird caught in a net, he could not take his black eyes away, trapped there behind all the others. Least of all she see him among the inky darkness he did well to hide in.