Paws and Prejudice

One

"Jack, surely you can't be serious!" Nicholas Wilde gasped, horrified. Of all of his friends cotton-headed plans, this one was among the most foolish.

"Serious about what, Nick?" Jack asked, adjusting his frock coat in a mirror.

"About this ball! You're not truly planning on throwing one, are you? You must be playing some kind of joke over me." Nick reached up and tugged at the fur atop his head, distraught.

Jack looked at the fox unsympathetically. They'd been friends since they were kits, long enough for familiarity to excuse any formality.

"I can assure you that this is no joke. I am set to host a ball this coming up Saturday. It won't kill you, Nick." He tweaked at his collar calmly, then stepped away from the mirror. His appearance was impeccable, as it ought to be. His friends on the other hand, was disheveled, evidence of his mental turmoil.

Nick groaned, and covered his eyes with his paws. His ears were pinned back. He took deep breaths and tried to regain his composure. "You realize that you are near to forcing my attendance." He said, as calmly as possible through gritted teeth.

His friend rolled his eyes, his white and black striped face set for a stubborn battle. "Yes. It will do you mountains of good. You tend to be a bit of a recluse, as you well know."

Nick Wilde sighed, nodded curtly, and strode out of his friends receiving room before he said something he would regret. He had too few true friends to lose one to foolish pride.