People's reactions aren't something Party really pays attention to, unless he's trying to elicit something specific, and he's rarely looking to elicit a positive response anyway. He's used to looking dirty and weird and getting looks for it, but he likes the way he is just fine, so fuck them.

Before he notices Eames or anyone else, really, he notices Boxer, his nostrils flaring a little as he adjusts. He hasn't even been a werewolf for a year and he's finally adjusting to just how much information his nose can give him, though sometimes it's the smells he's not expecting that throw him off the most.

He refocuses himself when his eyes flick up to Eames. People aren't the most helpful when you're trying to track someone at the best of times and this isn't exactly the first place he'd thought to look, but he's relieved that his search is over.

"Hello." He stops with a little extra space between them since upsetting a dude's dog is probably not the best way to make a good impression and he's pretty sure he'll be in a world of trouble if he does anything to hurt the pack's current relations with anyone. "Uh... my name is Party."

He holds out his hand to shake, but not before nervously running it through his bright hair, a seemingly absent nervous tick.