Flycatcher Downs the art of getting by

Undeterred by his petty hostility, the stranger remained seated politely to the side. Esche had expected a set of angry teeth, and while that didn't stop him from wolfing down yet another mouthful, it had kept him on his toes. This was new and different.

The dusky stranger angled in with a different approach altogether, in fact: beginning a  conversation. Esche stopped eating, perked his ears, and eyed the other uncertainly. He rocked his weight side to side like a boxer feeling out his opponent, until a knowing look passed across his face. He carved his expression into a crooked grin. "Funny."

He took another bite, this with less urgency, and settled his hackles into a thinner poof across his back. He decided, hesitantly, he wasn't going to dissuade the dark wolf from approaching anymore; but he wasn't going to invite him over either.

Though, at this point, he was beginning to feel full. He burped, shuffled his weight again, and laid down sphinx-like to keep stuffing his face. He was determined to eat until physical limitations alone prevented him, be they internal or external. One amber eye remained warily fixed on his scavenging companion, but the hint of a toothy grin was still smeared across his face.