He stands rigid, eyes wide, and a smile crawls across his face from corner to corner, clean back to the tips of his ears--how in the name of everything holy can they have teeth like that and still breathe.

"Good show," he barks, not retreating, fangs agleam with reflected fire. "Cook me, then."

That wry twist of humor catches him off guard. He has not hesitated in over a dozen years.

There's a first time for everything.