Hokey knelt down into a sitting posture like that of a dog's. There wasn't much else he could do right now. He had no need of the food presented. But if there was an order handed down from on high, he was never one to complain, just one to do. And for now, his orders were to attend this meeting. Then there was the voice of his superior, Vlad. His head panned over to observe him as he spoke. His attention fixated on him alone for now, studying him in quiet contemplation. Being a machine, he was mostly unable to emote, though subtle gestures betrayed his feelings. Hokey's head perked up suddenly, then gradually drew lower, his fangs clenched, and his tail coiled closer to him, curving around his forelegs defensively. Those closer to the machine could hear a low rumbling sound rattling from his vocalization array. Agitation, perhaps? What was it about this particular master that unsettled him, if so?
Though two words of Vlad's brief speech caught his attention, and seemed to soothe him: Real Missions. His head flopped back up, his long ears flicking with apparent enthusiasm. "Real missions, sir?" He asked. "Actual... combat?!" With those last two words, the electronic harshness of his voice briefly gave way to a more youthful, boyish voice, one filled with noticeable excitement. Such a voice coming from the menacing looking machine was jarring. He rose to his feet and trotted over. He paused just before Vlad, as if realizing he was getting well ahead of himself. As he spoke again, his ordinary cold, mechanical manner of speech returned. "We are, after all, built for fighting, sir." At this, his jaw shifted into the closest approximation of a grin he could pull. "Can you blame me for being enthused by the prospect of fulfilling my purpose?"