It's a small, snappy sound to hear a raccoon snap its little digits. Nike feels the corner of her mouth quirk upward without her meaning to. She wipes her expression clean a moment later, but the amusement lingers in her eyes.

"You are very wise. What may I call you, sir?" There's no condescension of any kind behind her words. No sarcasm. It's fair to say that much like certain members of Rocket's gang, Nike would probably not recognize it even if she heard it.

"You know so much about humans. I am humbled to be receiving of your guidance."