It would seem remotely childish to comment back to Remy, having grown up for the first twelve years of his life in the parts of canada where speaking french was the norm for the civilians. Even though it was slightly worn out, and the fact that it hadn't been used quite some time didn't phase Jean Paul. However, it was his pure intent to hold back and bark which saved him from speaking his perhaps considerably, mother tongue. Taking the scoop, he dished himself a quite nice proportion before setting it back in the freezer. It wasn't until the other individual whom had a different skin tone came in, that things began to get relatively heated again.
Shutting the freezer door he headed back to his location at the counter top. Hands grasped ahold of his bowl in one hand and the spoon in the other.
It was his question, and Remy's once again, immature antics that dug deep into his skin. His reaction? He lifted his head up high, and looked down upon Ken with those narrowed chocolate hues. " Is there a problem? " He asked, setting the dishes down next to him, allowing him the liberty to cross his arms.