"Buddy? Your dog?" He makes a little mm sound and leans into the kiss briefly, then smiles and picks up the wine bottle. "I like animals. Most of our dogs were working dogs, when I was growing up, but I used to play with them when I could."

He notes Finnick's hand still in his and threads their fingers together, a surprisingly soft gesture. This is a kindness; he won't forget that.

"Did you find your dog here, or did he come from your world?"