Vesper found herself ignoring the conversation at hand, looking out more or less into space as her claw wobbled in the little groove she’d made in the table. She had a feeling that Max was alone with his thoughts, as well, but the female didn’t mind at all. Solitude had instilled within her a respect for silence, and she was just as content with the Cajun drivel in the background as she was being involved with it. When her name came up, though, in relation to her gaienne, she glanced the cur’s way and snorted at his remark and wink, hoping that her complexion wasn’t darkening under her thin, pale fur.
She was spared having to give her input on that when Max sniffed the air, and she recognized the odor just before Rémy gestured at the jar. “I haven’t tried any of yours,” she answered almost sweetly, and relished the look on Asher’s face when he realized she’d had anything of the sort. He seemed to think it was some great scandal, and he would only even more so when she mentioned the name of her prime drinking buddy. She didn’t want to do that to the poor kid, though, so she only offered him an enigmatic smirk and looked toward the blackmouth dog again. “What, are you offering a little drink with dinner?”
ves liiiikes the 'shine
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