Culture Hound looks to the deer that Signy mentions as the pastry is denied to it. There is a short stare given to the fallen beast before it looks back up toward the pastry, then back to the deer. This goes on for a short time before the little dog gives a cute little snort toward the deer. Right after that, the white creature turns toward Signy while still in the lap, in order to yip a couple of times toward the pastry, clearly having made its choice for a preferred meal.
While Noa's focus is geared mostly toward her master during this time, it would appear that as soon as food is present, Culture Hound sees no real need to worry about Savio... Perhaps a sign that the Crow and his pet share a bit in common.
Speaking of Savio, where is he?
As the cautious elf in the shadows backs away with his hand moving toward his dagger, a calm voice speaks from roughly twenty to thirty feet from the man. "I suggest you keep this encounter civil, or it will not end well for you," the whisper carrying over with a forceful projection of an Antivan accent.
Not caring to conceal himself any longer, Savio rises from the ground, though his cloak is on and his hood still pulled over to cover most of his face. "I suggest we start this conversation with your name, where you hail from, and why you have decided to follow our band." As he waits for a response, the Crow takes a bite of his pastry with one hand. It might seem like he was doing it just for the tasty food (and perhaps he does want to eat it), but a good eye maybe able to tell that his other hand is resting on the pummel of his sword behind the confines of the thin cloak. He makes no motion to draw... At least not yet.