That's worth an eyebrow raise. "Depends on the human," he says. "The old ones, set in their ways, convinced that their own banal misery is inevitable - no, I can't say I much care for them either. The younger, creative ones, the dreamers... those can be good company. But I do prefer the company of my own kind. Who wouldn't like my kith's company?" he asks, in the manner of someone who's next statement should be Don't answer that.

Hmn. He flicks his ears, considers what a good tell would be.

"Would saying I'm of the house Fiona mean anything to you?" he asks, raising a shield with her heraldry.