"When am I not?" Elvis replied to Vendicare's inquiry charismatically, which would have granted a quick, low, rumbly "ha" in the form of a non-surprised laugh from Vendi, had the scent of a pine tree not alerted him to another entity walking up quickly after. Vendi let his face drop back into it's usual neutral expression as he turned to the demi-alpha respectfully. Renn was definitely making his way into Vendi's good graces, but he still didn't feel as comfortable around him as with Elvis. As Renn requested his and Elvis' help in retreiving something, Vendi nodded sharply once. He understood that when work needed to be done, it needed to be done. And when you're alpha asks, you hop to.
As they entered the room where all the boxes were stored, Vendi didn't pause for the lights to turn on. His pupils had grown extremely wide, dialating to let in as much light as possible, which made it easy for him to move about the room with dexterity. He allowed Renn to load his arms with boxes and boxes of clinking bottles until he carried much more than any normal man could take. He let his muscles flex, luxuriated in the feel of his sinews' movement, relished the weight on his biceps and trapezius as he exited the room. Once outside, he waited patiently through Renn's small speech, then only set the boxes down once Renn gave the word. He moved a few paces away and was comforted in a small way when he realized Elvis was still with him. He noted that he was growing quite comfortable with the younger man, which caused him to scowl in the smallest of fashions. Non è sicuro.
He blinked at Elvis as he brought the bottle of tequila over and swigged it on his own, passing it to Vendi, who grabbed it out of reflex. "So, Vendi, I was wondering... are you allergic to chocolate? You know, with the whole... dog-wolf thing in mind." Vendi paused and cocked his head to the side in thought. He'd never really been a fan of chocolate to begin with, it wasn't something he'd tried to eat even before the changing, so he'd never really given the idea much consideration. Deciding this was a good enough answer, he replied on a semi-shrug, "I don't like cioccolato." and left it at that.
As for the bottle in his hand, he'd had plenty of alcohol before, wine and such, growing up, then sticking mainly to beer once he'd turned. Simply because the scent of beer was less offensive than some more potent beverages. He'd never had this... 'tequila'... before though, so Vendi raised it to his mouth out of curiosity, keeping one eye on Elvis out of respect to the conversation. Before he even had a chance to sip the clear liquid he wrinkled his nose and quickly pushed it away again, stifling a gag. The strong scent had stung, causing his eyes to water momentarily. Raising one eyebrow he looked at Elvis, his deep voice grumbling, "Poison? Lupo veleno, is this?" He handed the bottle back as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, still scowling.
He turned toward the fire in surprise then as a veritable onslaught of pheromones hit him, causing a dizzying sensation to course through him. He'd never been able to notice pheromones before, but this was something other-worldly. He wiggled his nose to try and dispel the intoxicating smells but it was impossible. It was as though the hormone-inducers were seeping in through his skin. His blood began to race through his veins and he felt a heat begin in the pit of his stomach. Sicuramente non sicura! He knew this feeling, he knew this rush. He needed to move, needed to run until his head stopped throbbing. His face and body were calm, even as his muscles tightened in his fight to hold onto his control. He briefly wondered what had happened to the squirrel, a good chase and this would all be over. Then he saw Aaron, looking in the direction of the group he was near. Or was it right at him? He wasn't sure, but he suddenly felt as though it was time. The heat began to radiate out through his body from his core when he realized that something wasn't right, something wasn't normal. Taking a step back, he shook his head and looked to the ground. The ground was safe.
He breathed, in and out, arms crossed over his chest, until his body stopped raging. Then, suddenly, the feeling was gone. Looking up slowly he realized how many people were now gathered around the boxes of distilled liquid and made up his mind. What had only been a minute had seemed like an eternity and his palms were sweaty. Which, truth be told, kind of grossed him out. Vend turned to Elvis and stated, "Birra." then moved over, deftly grabbed a Guinness, and moved back to Elvis. Popping the cap off without any help, he took a swig, then let his body relax again as the cold alcohol descended down his esophagus.