*he nods in understanding* I see, I see. So the dog isn’t a dog and may or may not be butter named Nill, Penelope isn’t and wasn’t ever here, and you are Storm. *he claps twice quickly and chuckles* perfect! Now we are all caught up! *he leans in close to the mug, poking his head over the edge of it and smelling a few times. He recoils, nose scrunched despite his grin not wavering* that smells rancid. What is it? Can I try some? *he tilts his head, wings twitching twice as he rests his folded hands in his lap*

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