[Myr huffs a very cervine huff--amusement AND frustration--as he clip-clops over to where he remembers the nearest table to be. Finding it, he plunks the basket down and withdraws the bottle of brandy to brandish in Everett's direction.]

Good--then we'll not be interrupted at dinner. [It takes an effort not to lay his ears down and back as he considers his Bonded; the urge to Intimidate is there.] Which you are going to eat with me, Everett Vaughan. Whether or not you messere me the whole time.