Working late at the office; don't wait up

While Chaos wasn't sloppy drunk yet, he was drunk enough to not be aware of the approaching paws until the stranger spoke up - at least, that was what he insisted to himself. It wasn't that he was old enough that his hearing was starting to go or anything. Just the drink. He lifted his muzzle from the bowl, chasing one last drop of the almost-blueish liquid from his lips with the tip of his tongue. His gaze rested appreciatively on a fiery colored woman, like a brilliant orange sunset fading into darkest night. He grinned sardonically at her. "What else am I going to do? I'm retired." It was clear that the sharp, caustic tone was directed at himself rather than the stranger. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, to turn the pack over to Tyrian and retire to enjoy life, but rather than enjoying life he'd felt like it had let him age far too fast. "Kids are all grown and gone now. I'm not needed for anything else. How about you, Fireball? Got anywhere to be or would you keep an old man company?"