what's it like in New York City?

Although Apollo was as susceptible to a good ego-stroking as anyone, he was simply puzzled by her insistence on praising his kill. Perhaps she was simply not a good hunter... but her lithe and lovely figure suggested otherwise. He blinked away that odd observation to focus, though his gaze seemed to want to linger on hers. Ah - was she concerned for his safety if the elk cow returned? He was oddly flattered by the thought, though perhaps she was as concerned about her own safety in that event. "You needn't worry," he rumbled earnestly. "If she returns I will protect you. I would not allow any harm to come to you from sharing a meal with me." He allowed a faint smile to curve his muzzle, an expression that didn't come naturally to the serious male and felt odd and yet... right, to smile at the pretty young thing. "It would be absolutely unbearably rude of me."

He bent his head to the kill, but kept his golden eyes curiously on her. "If I may be so bold," he spoke again, rather than tear into the calf once more, "might I ask the name of the lady who is so kind as to keep me company in my meal?"