If Wing flirts any harder with the stranger, he may sprain a pinion. Which would then, obviously, need a kiss to make better.

"Oh there was one, once. Though he didn't say 'thank you'." And to his mind, once was just earlier today, when he'd stood on the sand, ready to face battle next to Drift.

After the battle, though, Drift would be free of Braid and his slavers, and then...well...Wing could hope to change his mind.

The thing is definitely into Drift, flailing a tentacle at the ankle, just as he might fear, but Wing slashes out, one blade neatly severing the creature's limb, so it topples over the edge. He turns, grinning. "I think we make a pretty good team, don't you?"