The trouble with making certain magically inclined individuals angry on a regular basis was that sometimes they struck back with much prejudice. Only this time around he was being left to stew in how he really shouldn't talk smack about certain nobility figures. So here he was, swaddled in a blanket for decency but scowling with a face that almost was entirely too much like his former charge's.

Sighing, he approached Ireland from behind, reaching out to tug on her leg and scrunching together his most perfect wibble face. No one could refuse him when he made that face. And surely she'd help him get back to normal...