"Jacquez Trouillefou, his royal highness." His deep voice crooned, enjoying the sound of his own name. He knew that hardly anyone could pronounce his long and complicated French name - hence the clipped sobriquet that others used, "Jac". It was easier for them. They could always call him "Highness", though. Or he would accept "Sir Jacquez", if they liked that better. A pity, that no one bothered with his elegant surname. "Of course I am a king. Can you not recognize my noble bearing? You are not accustomed with the ways of royalty, eh, Haven?" He chuckled, shaking his head lightly. Today's youth was simply undereducated. He wouldn't insist on men bowing before him, but it wasn't something he'd frown upon, either...
The collie-dog tilted his russet face curiously, listening attentively to Haven's lachrymose tone. Family issues were something that blew in one ear and out the other with him; he had no memory of any parents or siblings, and even if a female approached him with a pup of his, he had no interest in adopting the role of a father. They could raise his kids if they wanted to, or abandon them; whatever suited their fancy. That was the stray way. He had been abandoned, and it hadn't bothered him one bit. Apparently wolves were much more attached to their biological relatives. "If you do not wish to be a burden, monsieur Haven, then you must stand up for yourself. No one will ever like you if you loathe yourself." The tall Optime shrugged his good shoulder, striding into the building. The attractive scents of various drinks met his sensitive nose, and he grunted with pleasure, moving immediately to the shelves on the walls. What would he start with? Off-handedly, he added, "Mm, but if you left your pack, you are welcome to join ours. Ruri and I are going to start one on the beach." His white fingers danced atop the smooth glass bottles, intently studying the ragged labels. What would be the strongest?