Volgin puffed his breath, narrowing his eyes at the offending dog as she so obediently (yet hesitantly) relinquished what was his prize. He quietly slung his bag around his large shoulder instead, approaching the beast.

(He was tempted to send a swift boot into its side.)

"The dog had those," he stated in that dry voice again, never mind his entire life prior to his inheritance hinged on not being picky when it came to matters of food. Dog drool was not a deterrence when it came to the ravages and aches of hunger.