... He whimpers. But it's not because he's in pain. He holds up the long piece of cloth around his neck.

"One of them singed my scarf!" And also his wings, and maybe his face a bit, but mostly that was the point of wearing the layers: so he wouldn't end up fried. He REALLY liked this scarf. ... Oh well...

"A-anyway, we should... get moving..." His poor scarf. RIP scarf. "Maybe also get you cleaned up, at some point."