"That could be an interesting arrangement. Me as a wolf spider, you as my line." He strokes his chin, leaning on his elbows on the counter. She has nothing to fear from him, from his casual posture. He fondles his wooden bead necklace in his hand. "No, I don't suppose people would expect you. You hardly register as a threat to most."

He's done drawing this out. His tone gets serious, snapping into place like a tumbler in a lock.

"Regardless, come here and I won't hurt you." He raises his gaze to Molotov, ghoul-faced and now positioned between Eponine and the exit. "But she certainly will."