[i]"...I see...this guy must be able to read me like a book. A Sacred Gear? No...he doesn't...smell quite right. Something's weird about him."[/i] Creighton thought as he listened to Zeke speak, wondering just what his intentions were; not like there were many sane demons who'd just let a stray wander about near their family. He was definitely expecting a fight, so the idea that the leader of the bunch was just so...inviting was off putting. He hadn't had anyone really talk to him nicely in a while. Manners were a wonderful thing to be reminded of, especially after basically bumming it in the wild for a couple years. Placing his hands in his coat pockets, Creighton followed along behind Zeke, having absolutely no intention of harming him unless someone else made the first move.

Walking into the area around the campfire, Creighton payed little regard to the red-headed guy's threat, only saying: [b]"Nice stick, by the way. Best Sacred Gear I've ever seen."[/b] before he took a seat not on one of the logs, but next to the one that had the sleeping chick. Seemed like she had a spare bag of marshmallows anyways. Not even bothering to acknowledge that she looked like someone cosplaying a foxchick, Creighton ignored the obvious stares of suspicion from anybody around him. [b]"I can wait my turn, Mr. Fauxmory."[/b] he stated, the rats on his coat all staring at the bags of marshmallows curiously. Hasn't been a while since Creighton had a chance to restock on crackers either. Obeying his command to stay, they remained on his back, though most of their individual eyes were all visible, staring at Yuriha's marshmallow bags in the way that is not covered by the double entendre.