[This would be the part where he drops some acrid parting remark and shuts the door in Frey's face. Except before he can open his mouth, the small elf that has been pestering him for days comes frolicking over, having wriggled out of the closet where he was tossed. Its movements are lurching and demented, and there's really no reason that it shouldn't lose its balance. It cries out:] "Hey, cakesniffer! Why ain't you baking those cookies like I asked you to!"
[It skips underneath his legs to peer up at Frey; Mithos glares down at it.] How many times do I have to tell you? I don't care.
[December 23rd]
[It skips underneath his legs to peer up at Frey; Mithos glares down at it.] How many times do I have to tell you? I don't care.