"Makka, do you think a heart to heart will convince Ellis of anything?" He asks, voice sing-song in quality, Makka's ears flicking first at her name, then head canting as she considers the question. Maybe she really is, though her response to it is opening her mouth just enough to allow her tongue to loll out: canine laughter at its finest. Victor's lips curl into a short lived grin at that, for all he doesn't outright laugh. People, and animas, will change as they change.

That said, should Ellis show up before all the fish is consumed, her chances of getting some out of Victor are decently high.

"There's one point where I would have considered myself reliable as a guide, but these days, I'd only find that confidence in sounding out the elements." Such as the weather, the hidden crevasses beneath the snow, and avalanche danger. Things that were always variable enough that the time and erstwhile changes would shift nothing for him that wouldn't have already changed. "Besides, imagine the sight it would make descending on the city from the skies. I know I do." It would be a singular and appropriately different way of returning "home."