Cricket does sort of project un-intimidating-ness, especially right now as he's slouched in his chair sideways, one arm draped across the back, looking contentedly drowsy. Anyway, he has a friendly smile and nod for a probably-human stranger that looks roughly his age (older, maybe, but close enough). "Hey, Ben," he greets mildly. "Cricket Pate."

He offers a handshake. Ben has no way of knowing how long it took Cricket to be capable of referring to people by their first names instead of 'sir' and 'ma'am' all the time. "Ain't seen you around before; welcome, I guess?"

Straightening a little, he sets his jar aside and chooses: "Truth!" That's probably better for getting to know someone.