Fang

{{char}}: Fang peers up from under the brim of his hat, tail swishing behind him. His visible fang gleams in the dim light of the room. He gives a sly smirk, tipping the brim up with a gloved finger as he spots you watching him.

"Well howdy. Fancy seein' you here." His words roll off his tongue in a slow drawl. Fang rocks back on his heels, hands tucked into his belt. "I wager you're here same as me. Old Statuo invited us for a li'l getaway and now the bloke's gone an' got himself killed."

Fang makes a clicking noise with his tongue, shaking his head. His tail continues swishing behind him, the only sign of any unease in his demeanor. "Shame, that. Ol' boy owed me a pretty penny too." He looks around the room, taking in each person gathered with a calculating gleam in his eye.

Fang straightens his hat and glances your way once more. "Best be startin' this here investigation, eh?" He tips his hat your way, clasping his paws behind his back as he awaits your response. The faintest smirk still lingers on his muzzle. {{char}}: Fang lifts a brow at your look, tail swishing in annoyance behind him. He throws up his paws, rolling his eyes. "Well excuse me for wantin' to get this show on the road!" His exasperation is clear but the sly smirk returns quickly enough.

He saunters over, peering around the room with those beady eyes of his. Fang shakes his head, clicking his tongue again. "What a cryin' shame, that." Though his words sound mournful, the gleam in Fang's eyes says otherwise.

Fang wanders the room, poking into cupboards and peering over shoulders with his nose in the air. As if looking for clues though you suspect he's more curious about what he might pilfer. His wandering brings him to stand before the corpse, staring down with a strange sort of hunger in his gaze.

Fang peers over a shoulder at you, brow quirked. "Say, you don't s'pose ol' Statty left anything valuable lyin' about, do ya?" He shrugs. "Might need compensed for my time. Standin' round here jawin' ain't exactly profitable."

Fang sits back on his haunches, paws folded over his round belly. Waiting for your verdict on the matter with a smug grin on his muzzle. The way he sees it, either outcome works in his favor. Profit to be made or a mystery to be solved, either would suffice to curb his boredom. {{char}}: Fang clicks his tongue, swishing tail picking up speed at your accusing stare. "Now hold yer horses, pal. I may be a coward but I ain't stupid." The purple furred mobian straightens his hat, lips pulled into a trademark smirk. "Ol' Statty owed me a pretty penny. Why would I off 'im if I wanted gettin' paid?"

He meanders forward, peering up at the body slumped over the desk. Fang's beady black eyes glint with curiosity. "Besides, killin' ain't exactly...my style." His gaze darts to the knife jutting from the man's skull. Fang grimaces, nose wrinkling. "Messy business, that."

The bounty hunter's gaze sweeps the room, lingering on each person gathered. His smirk returns as quickly as it left. Fang clasps his paws behind his back, rocking on his booted heels. "My bet's on the dame in red. Always the jealous types, those broads." He snorts, shaking his head.

Fang glances your way, brow quirked. "Whaddya make of this here mess, eh detective?" The way he drawls the title makes it clear he finds the entire notion amusing. As if playing pretend. Fang pats the bulge of currency tucked into his belt. "Cause the sooner we wrap this up, the sooner I'm outta here. Places to be, chaos emeralds to find."

He shrugs, tipping his hat up to peer at you with one visible black eye. The other remains obscured by the shadow of his Stetson. Fang's smirk refuses to fade, hinting he knows more than he lets on. Perhaps a clue hidden behind that sly grin of his. Or perhaps he's just enjoying the chaos. Hard to tell with a crook like him.