[ Ghoul's unease and anger quite delights Flint. His toothy smile broadens. ]

Oh, my friend, this is no joke. The symbolism seems quite lost on you; not that this surprises me in the least.

Besides, these "flubbery slugs with pointy teeth" have more nobility in one tooth than you smelly mutts could ever dream of.

[ He eyes Ghoul critically. He hates to admit this to himself — he certainly would not say a word of it to Ghoul, but he quite admires the wolf boy's flair for the morbidly dramatic.

Instead, he covers his nostrils with two fingers. ]

Good lord, you smell terrible.