Fuck. Magpie looks quickly to the raised paw, which is easily the size of his entire head, and reaches in through the ragged ruin of his gorget to wipe away some of the revolting drool; he blows bubbles to get it away from his lips before he speaks.

"Ren?" he tries to growl; it comes out as more of a bleat. It's the tangle of black, well, black fur, and the slate-grey of those demonic eyes. "Ren? Is that you? Seriously?"

Seriously: ugh.