<Are there more?> inquires Ax.

He laughs. "Not right now. There will be if I make 'em."

<May I have more?> Ax gets his pants on, and his shirt, and peers into the kitchen.

Ax's morphed human instincts must be driving the generation of facial expressions. He looks truly pathetic when he says, "How many? Men-nee?"

"How about..." he looks at the remaining volume of batter and makes a calculation, "three more, and then I'll wait until everybody else has eaten and give you what's left?"

"Three," says Ax. "Thhhhrrrrrreeee." He sighs.

"Aw, poor Ax."

"Yeah, I know. But we've got a lot of people to feed here."

"I wish one of us besides Charlie could drive, we could go get groceries. Maybe if I successfully miss Mom calling today I can call one of Dad's friends and get a ride."

"Yeah, 'cause otherwise I'm gonna have to go kill a deer or something pretty soon."

"Would you even know what to do with a dead deer?"

"I'm sure I could figure it out."

"Inconspicuously?"

"Mmm... depends where."

"You'd have to get it to the house, to cook it."

"Yeah, probably. Or do some serious experimenting off in the middle of the woods somewhere. But the deer'd still have to come back eventually, I guess."

"Yeah."

"What is a deer? Deeeeeeeeeeer?"

"Four-legged herbivore with hooves."

Ax looks alarmed.

Trouble hands him a plate of pancakes.

This is a very effective distraction!

Bella comes down the stairs.