Wheeling Gull Isle Don't tell me what you think that I can be

He stared at her for quite some time before he had seemingly done her something. A lighter brow raised above his mask of soot and ink. What? Was his immediate response, coming closer despite the female's disinterest in him. She had called, he had delivered - he at least expected some kind of reward. His whole life had been an unending practice of giving and receiving and he applied it to any situation he found himself in.

I came for you - now what do I get? He asked, settling down on his haunches to relax a bit.