YOU'RE IN MY SIGHTS...

A beat.

Wolf cocks a brow, his famous grin twisting itself along his snout while his brain, much like a bored child looking for something to watch with the TV remote, quickly begins flipping through all of the potential remarks and follow up jokes he could make at the vixen's expense.

It's at the last second, though, the allegorical TV is turned off in his head. No, best not dig yourself a grave, O'Donnell. No need to test your luck.

... not that she wasn't looking for it. Wolf O'Donnell, offering her something to eat or drink? She had to wonder if there was something behind that offer that she could see without delving too deeply into his mind. She had to focus on the interaction, after all.

... not that she wasn't looking for it. Wolf O'Donnell, offering her something to eat or drink? She had to wonder if there was something behind that offer that she could see without delving too deeply into his mind. She had to focus on the interaction, after all.

His observation is dry but not sharp, the lupine rolls one shoulder while gesturing loosely into the interior of Sargasso's lounge. Wolf steps aside giving Krystal a clear path in rather than crowding her space, his posture fully relaxed, but still deliberate.

"Menu's decent, but the drinks are better." A beat. His single eye catching her pine green orbs. "Though some of them will knock you on your ass if ya don't know what you're doin'."

Wolf turns on his heel, the front of his body facing towards the bar, though he glances back over his shoulder towards the Cerinian. "If you're just testing the waters, though, I can point ya towards somethin' that tastes good instead of burnin' a hole through your gut. You can taste-test a few things, y'know, decide if ya hate it." Behind Wolf, his tail sways casually. "Up to you, Princess. No pressure."

And that's when a hint of that signature grin creeps back in.

"...And no more terrible jokes, I promise. I'll behave."

"Mm... The hip-check corridor? The shimmy slot? The pelvic slide-by?"