The question caught Pastelsea's ear, and though she lifted her eyes to give a stray glance at the inquirer and to see who would take of the offer, she herself had no plans to respond. Instead, she hesitated and waited through the formalities since, as she predicted, there was the typical awkward hesitation. Perhaps it was just nature that cats would be reserved, even some of the most extroverted and self-confident souls seemed to pause when faced with the concept of spending time with someone new. And, well, of course the tom's past in Waterclan couldn't have helped him gain an helpful social standing, even in spite of his mother.

As the silence lingered longer, however, the more uncomfortable Pastelsea became. There was a hint of pity, and then slight embarrassment for the tom, and she weighed out the social consequences of letting sympathy outweigh her own reservations. There was a long moment where compassion warred with her own narcissism, competing also against the ghostly hidden presence of a primal timer built into the very essence of every living creature that ticked on, like a drum on her anxieties. In the end, it was more the escape from the making a choice than any sort of kindness that won her over, the stress of having to choose whether or not to take action a worse feeling than the actual consequences of the choice itself.

Giving a small lick to her sugar white shoulder, which looked delicate and plush enough to have melted just under the soft heat and weight of her tongue alone, she brought herself to her paws without even a hint to her inner turmoil just moments before. "I'll could come." She offered, the warmth of her voice melting the silence. "But what will you give me for it?" Her teasing inquiry her earnest effort to normalize an interaction that already pierced her gut with the sharp tang of awkwardness.

After giving a slightly awkward half-laugh the tom's offering of mercenary services, assuming - hoping - it to be an off beat joke, she took to following the tom as he pushed on ahead. "Hmm... I can hunt most things, though I'd prefer to avoid anywhere with too many plants, or where the plants are too tall. All those leaves and things get stuck on me and make a mess of my coat, long fur problems." She said good-naturedly with a small chuckle at her own lot in life, though there was more than a little undertone of pride in her pelt. She was nowhere near ignorant in her own appearance, and quite quick to flaunt it whenever the occasion arose. Or, on occasions where it didn't. It was relatively all the same to her.