"Fair enough," Goodman said with pursed lips and a pensive nod. Still...he itched to look at the gruesome little things, maybe hear them talk in whatever voice they had without vocal chords. When King slapped that ass, the tall man's eyebrows bounced and he smirked in amusement but he actually guffawed lightly when King got reprimanded with a playful, yet chilling threat. Oh, indeed, he felt right at home here.<br/><br/>"Sure, I'll switch to plain whiskey now, I think," he said, handing over the empty glass. "If I have too many more of those rum-with-egg nogs from you, I might beat you both under the table." Not that he was too tipsy yet but the drink had gone surprisingly fast. Like fricking candy.<br/><br/>Then a second later, Goodman was eating his own thoughts on fellowship when the scent of dog filled the room and the sound of canine feet came thundering in.<i><span style="font-family:Aref Ruqaa">The Hund! </span></i>Instantly, a chilled sweat lashed over him and the Goodman whipped around in time to see a hideous dog of impossible size bound up to King. Trying to maintain control of himself, his eyes flickering with purple iridescence, Goodman quickly put distance between himself and the mutt. Not the Hund. Just a regular hellhound, it seemed. For now, he was safe. Adjusting his leather vest, he swallowed thickly and attempted to regain his composure. It wouldn't do to reveal himself to these folks too early. They were just starting to get along.