Just what had he gotten himself into? Suddenly, he had to consider: was being a mercenery or some kind of vagrant really that cool? Looking at Jackdaw in such a state...well, Israfel recoiled momentarily at the thought. All the wretching and scrambling away hardly seemed to matter - Jackdaw was on the defense and rightfully so. Israfel hadn't exactly been quiet and, frankly, he hadn't even considered the possibility of being overheard. It was just too gross to worry about those things! In any case, at least he had been able to break free and scramble away, spitting out the grossness and the dirt all at once.

Jackdaw's exasperation was met immediately by an even louder version of Israfel's own - a loud huff, a dramatic sigh and his nose in the air. But then, he felt suddenly very clever. Cleverer, perhaps, than a washed up tracker. It made him smirk in amusement and scheming as he cocked a brow and puffed his chest: "Well, it'll be your word against mine," he grinned with a dramatically pathetic expression, "a poor, lost child of Spirane's Castellian stolen away to an island...found tragically traumatized..." He sighed again, his paw now covering his muzzle as he flopped back onto his side. He sighed again, a noise somewhere between a sound of pain and exasperation. Apparently he could be quite the convincing actor!

Then, he grinned deviously from behind his paw. "If I'm so weak, why don't you make me strong, huh?" He challenged with a tilt of his head. "You could start by making sure I'm well fed." He motioned towards the prairie dogs once more, pleased with his efforts and yet...mostly happy to think of something other than Jackdaw's nose against his own.