The fox seems gratified that Dragox doesn't show a change of expression. He'd already run off a buyer or two today with those prices ... which he didn't think were unreasonable. He needed to make something of a profit, and people didn't seem to consider the pains he had to go through to breed these!<br/><br/>But the furre across from him seems to appreciate that, if only obliquely. He nods reply to Dragox's response. "Oh? Well that's great! Daresay, out in the country's probably the best sort of environment to have one of these as a pet. They tend to grow rather..." He lifts his hand high above his own head, demonstrating height he couldn't reach, "...large. Not a city pet, no no no." His whiskers twitch again as he watches his customer's perusal.<br/><br/>The vors all have turned their attention to Dragox, because he said the word 'food'. Though not the brightest creatures on the planet, like any animal they very quickly learned to associate the sounds of words with things they wanted.<br/><br/>The fox tilts his head at Dragox's choice. There's an almost imperceptible pause, and he nods. "Alrighty then," He goes and begins the work of unlatching the wire-crate cage from the adjoining ones, while still keeping it tightly closed. "I will tell you, this one's about a month old. After 2 or 3 weeks they get harder to imprint. But! I hand-raise and personally have fed all the ones I mean to sell ... they're very tame. Just hungry."<br/><br/>Take that as you will. The fox hefts the crate from its stand, struggling a little with the vor's weight. He's not that big a fox, after all. He sets the cage down on the sidewalk as gently as he can, then looks up at Dragox expectantly. He turns the cage a little in case Dragox wants to look this particular specimen over.