Elarin had been sipping his coffee, and trying to enjoy the taste of his ribs, when the fight had broken out. Usually, Elarin wouldn't hesitate to defend his fellow crewmembers aboard the Quest For Flavor, but after piloting an eight-hour starship flight from Eroticon VI(his tail was still sore from that outing) to Nurr-Slugg, the lizardman wanted nothing to do with any sort of inter-booth war, especially with people who looked like the intergalactic equivalent of backwater farmboys dressed in their daddy's leather jackets and driving 2nd hand Space Bikes they tricked out with their allowance. So while the others made simultaneous peace offerings and displays of cartoonish violence, Elarin just sipped at his coffee, one scaley hand pressed against the auditory slit that passed for his right ear, and his eyes blinking themselves out of a glazed stupor.
When the to-go boxes arrived, Elarin just sighed, packing what remained of his ribs and sides into one box, indenting the foam with his claw in the shape of an 'E' to mark it as his, finished the rest of his coffee in one large gulp, and rolled the sleeves back down on his top, so that they once again covered his entire arms.
"So, we ready to hit the road? Cause I'd like to get to the ship as soon as possible. I wanna get the co-ordinates punched into the auto-pilot right away, so that I can spend less time arguing with the damn thing, and more time getting some shut-eye..." With that, Elarin used one claw to pick a bit at his sharp, meat-eating teeth, trying to get a particularly obnoxious bit of fry out from between them.