He scoffs or laughs with a certain superior, but no doubt infinitely kind and knowing air. It might be easy to forget that for all that Kitty knows a thing or two about-- well, about a thing or two, that she doesn't have a clue when it comes to numbers three through forty thousand if it weren't for her habit of bringing it up every thirty seconds or so. If he were a less understanding sort and she was a little more irritating, he might find himself telling all sorts of stories purely because no one in the room would know enough to catch him at it.

But he's tired and boundless though his creativity is, it might be best to keep a lid on it before he talks his way out of that free ride she's offering. Besides, she can't exactly help being so painfully oblivious.

He settles for airy, but painstakingly educational: "As a matter of fact, I can't. I might be above most of the rules that you have to deal with, but I can't just jump around willy nilly without being summoned. And you--! Well you're even more exhausting to take with me that way than this one. And you have enough complicated parts that it might be perfectly understandable to lose a few on the way even for the likes of me."

Somewhere in there, the falcon has disappeared. In its place - and clambering wearily into her open palm now - is a field mouse with twitching whiskers and small velveteen ears.