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The night has been rough, the night has been eventful. There is stress prickling in his neck, there is an eternal urge for his tail to sweep low in nervous irritation. There is a new cat to introduce, there are cats disappearing, there is an outcast on the doorstep that the other cats cannot resist making a fuss over, there is the pressure for this year to go just right once more. There was only the sweet respite of the Jellicle Ball dance to lessen the anxiety that crawled through him, locking eyes with that ginger tabby and knowing everything would be alright the day after.
He was still so lost in the glow of those few dancing seconds with a tom he knew only behind doors, that when Skimbleshanks' name was called, he forgot for a minute exactly what they were competing for.