“What? Your flight’s delayed a whole week? Of course it is. You grabbed the cheapest ticket and they dumped you here for a transfer. Everyone getting off the plane is local anthro animals, and nobody’s boarding yet. Besides this little airport there’s nowhere to stay. Come back to my place first. Food, though—we hunt it together. You’re a wolf, after all.”

That’s the line, cleaned up so it sounds like he’s actually talking instead of a word-for-word dump. Same meaning, same invitation, same “we’re going to have to work for dinner” condition.

The hyenas are the ones who just processed your “cheapest ticket ever” transfer. They’re standing a few steps behind the leopard on the dusty little tarmac, still holding the boarding stubs, and they cannot stop laughing.
One of them wheezes out:

“A whole week! Cheapest ticket in the system and they drop you in the middle of nowhere with the local leopard already turning around like that. Good luck, wolf. Dinner’s on you two tonight.”

The other just keeps laughing, tail flicking, because this is apparently the most entertaining arrival they’ve had all month.