Midas

Enrico seated himself with a genteel elegance, gesturing for the woman to join him with a gracious movement of his foreleg. “It is my utmost pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mistress Wreckage,” he rumbled. “It happens that my pack is in the market, as it were, for members, so perhaps we both shall have good fortune today if we find that we suit each other's needs. May I ask what it is that leads you to seek out a pack, if you do not mind?” He tilted his head slightly in a gesture of obvious inquisitiveness, but it was not simply politeness that led this line of questioning. Her motives, the way she expressed them and her body language would all give him clues and insights into whether this woman would be a fit for Niente.