When standing still, Wykkyd looks like a very unorthodox statue; close to, but not quite, gangly and weedy, two sets of red eyes glowing and shimmering as if his capricious sculptor blew money on rubies, only to put them in... that.

In the darkness of the pantry, it is perhaps difficult to tell the exact color of his skin. It’s certainly inhuman. Here, people don't seem to be as put out by that as they usually are.

As Kris opens the pantry door and lobs the apple back at him, he snatches it before it can hit him. One moment he’s there, holding his bruised prize in the air, and the next he’s not; repositioning himself much, much closer to Kris.

He doesn't know what to do with the apple. It's got little indents in it from his nails now, and while it's not completely inedible and he does eat things off of the ground on occasion, Kris seems to need it... more?

Wykkyd could just teleport away in embarrassment, but he's been trying to not do that so often. The apple is, then, thusly offered.