The Joxter's thoughts were both blank and scrambled as he retrieved his fallen hat.

For one moment, he was thinking about how great an apple would taste right then, because his mouth was a little dry. In the next he was wondering where in the world his wandering hippie of a son was now, and after that he dully noted that there was a raging ball of black fur complaining about its mates not to far from his vicinity, and that he'd probably scared that tavern wall--who turned out to be a human girl--into a panic ([i]which[/i] he [i]may[/i] have felt a twinge of guilt over, and [i]who[/i] he [i]may[/i] have given an apologetic glance over the shoulder). In fact, many a person were panicking! But, he digressed. Back to apples. He could go for some hard cider. That'd be nice.

He placed the hat back on his head, tugged on the brim, and spoke before his mind could process what was happening to him. 

"Excellent idea, dear Darkhunter! Right! So...the Joxter, yours truly." He grinned a wide, win-'em-over, fang-filled grin, whiskers and nose twitching and all the rest of his charms and tricks, before curtsying. "And figuring out where we've landed ourselves wouldn't be a half-bad idea, pussy-cat. I can second that notion. I'm fairly certain none of us has the slightest as to why we're here anyways." 

He fought the urge to mutter under his breath about the lot of jumbo-sized freaks he was surrounded by. Of all the things his forebodings had warned him of, they left out [i]this[/i] little event, huh?

Rather, he stepped backwards, towards the human girl in red. "I apologize if I frightened you, miss," he said softly, so that he wouldn't be heard by unwanted ears. "I hadn't known whose legs I was leaning on, or that I was leaning on any legs at all. I might be able to make it up for my rudeness, however: if you're tired, I'll let you borrow my scarf. It doubles as a practical pillow when there's nothing else available."