Wheeling Gull Isle molotov cocktails on me like accessories

N-nuh-no! N-n-no no no, of course not! Driftwood rears back in alarm as he manages to stammer this out. The moment he managed to remove one foot from his mouth, it seemed, it was only so that he could promptly jam the next one in there. Great. Thankfully the imperious young girl at least takes enough pity on him to give him more-direct instruction on the matter. He should take the rat to Seelie? He should. Yes. Very good, of course, of course he should. Driftwood nods his head a little too fast and eagerly—and obsequiously—in agreement. Yes, yes, of course he would do that, the moment he had her leave to go of course that is milady.

He is taken aback a little by her noting of it as a nice thing to be doing... His tongue darts nervously out to lick at his lips uncertainly, as he tries to figure out if there is any response to give to this that won't result in her leaping down his throat again. He seems to have such a knack for choosing exactly those responses here, after all. What does she want of him? What is she expecting? She doesn't want him to bow and scrape she said, but— but—! Surely such little niceties are nothing more than any wolf would do for their beloved and preoccupied leader as they are busily spawning and raising the future of the pack, right? Surely no one would ever fail to perform such duties— is Reed making fun of him with this sudden and suspicious change of character, or what?! Driftwood is at a loss, fearing to make a move in any direction and thereby somehow make even more of an ass of himself, until fortunately Reed comes to his rescue, reactivating the locked-up rusty gears of his brain with what amounts to pretty much a direct order.

Wah—oh, o-of course. Of course, Reed. ...Never mind that technically he outranks her. Or how much he outweighs her. By sheer force of personality Reed has irretrievably seized the lead, here, and Driftwood doesn't even question it as he eagerly but uncertainly moves his paws forward to rest in the soft, recently-upturned earth right next to where she was digging. He turns confused but obedient eyes toward her, his ears folded back in uncertainty but listening closely for her next command all the same. Anything to make up for his earlier inept flailing and even more to keep it from recurring, heaven forfend. Surely he is safest in promptly acceding to wherever her whims may lead, right now.