It would’ve been unsettling in any other situation however Red was no ordinary person (anymore). He lived without the understanding of risk - poking a sleeping bear with a stick was probably not the smartest move and while he was a bright crayon it was the aspect of consequence that he lacked. Whatever he’d contracted from that black wolf shape (he knew damned well what exactly that thing had been) had skewed his views on baiting things or people wiser and more keen than himself.
“What? You don’t like to get Physical?” Red pouted. He didn’t know a soul that didn’t like that song, or Grease and not just for Olivia. John Travolta had been a babe once. Or maybe Red was just partial to the leather jacket. Who knew? “And being petted is nice.”
At least they could agree on something.
A wince at the sound the basket of candles made when it hit the floor and Red broke into a smile. Something more genuine. The scent of chocolate was a deterrent so he kept his distance but otherwise made himself seem approachable.