"Hungry?" Ronan's lips quirk into a lopsided smirk. The kind that might mean trouble. His brand of trouble often came in the form of barbed words meant to sting. In this case the quick insult would be about this kids face but Ronan didn't want to say something mean about it. Weird. "A cat?" He shrugs. "Don't like pussy."

He drags a chair over and flops into it, all legs and arms dangling like a puppet with the strings cut as he sat down.

"Got a name?"