Fox vaguely remembered the feline's face from the message boards--the one offering mercenary work. But he hadn't bitten; he never was one for strict orders. If he had wanted that, he would have been in the military. But someone potentially in a similar line of work as him, if on the other end, was still something more familiar, at least.

"Nothing wrong with a little flattery, right?" He tried his best to make himself look more cheerful; he wouldn't want to mope around in front of company. "Fox McCloud. You are?"