There was a flicker of vicious hunger in his demeanor, something of which he kept secretly tucked away. He smiled not in that jolly sort of way, but in a darkly serrated manner best suited for a fire-breathing dragon. Those great big green eyes flashed with a hint of forewarning; he was fiercely eager and without an outlet to ravish that white-hot energy on.

Large gloved hands folded in front of him, elbows resting on his knees as his tone lowered to a guttural entreat.

"I need to carve my niche, find an alcove, my berth, Freddy. You know how I get when my restless hands haven't anything to do." All that silly banter was gone, his teeth were out and he was famished.

"Put the word in for me and I'll make it worth your while and more. Even you can attest I'm good for it."