Well, you haven't done anything to warrant that yet. And I'm fairly certain I could make you stop anything I didn't like without resorting to that, either. You're just a waif of a thing, even if the swords are very handsome.

[He reaches up and gently grabs Molly by the horn, near the root, where he knows on Bull there's a lot more feeling. No yanking or anything. Just feeling the warmth where skin turns into something else.]

Do you want to keep going? I didn't mean to put you off.