Flycatcher Downs the art of getting by

Hoping his jest might lighten the mood, Deimos smiles at Esche disarmingly, noticing that the yearling's posture has changed from hostile to slightly less so. He's still on edge, something Deimos can't blame him for. Most strangers in Deimos' life have come with less-than-friendly intentions.

He's patently patient as Esche eats his fill and burps, and he has to be. Deimos hasn't lived this long by being rash, and if he pushes his luck too soon, he might find Esche doesn't think he's funny so much as an annoyance needing to be eliminated. Deimos is anything but timid, but he knows better than to approach while another wolf is still eating. Eventually, Esche will eat his fill. Deimos sits by like a vulture, waiting.

His lobes flick as Esche moves; at first he's hopeful the yearling is moving aside, but instead the wolf lies down to continue gorging. There's still plenty of food to be had, but Deimos' stomach protests the move with an explosively loud gurgle that forces him to shift uncomfortably. "Someone's unhappy," He remarks off-handedly, his own grin growing. "Do you like singing? I'll supply the melodies while you eat, and then when you're done, I'm going to eat too." His grin fades as a determined look settles in his hungering gaze. "Then, I can either be on my merry way, or we can team up. Your choice. Though I have to say if you choose we part, that is your loss. I happen to be a wonderful traveling companion with a very desirable baritone."