[Though Eridanus has hardly lost any over his height overnight, his slimness is certainly no match for the compact musculature that wraps Lucius' own honed form. As that weight bears down on him, Eridanus isn't in any capacity able to move out from under it, effectively pinned beneath the form that slots with his own. It rushes anxious feeling through his guts—a fluttering excitement and wariness both—even with the relaxing rumble of a purr in this beast's chest.

Still, the pet names, taunting as they are, only serve to irk him further. To be treated as a child, despite all he's been through—enduring his father's torment, and the expectations of society both on his shoulders—roils sick disgust hotly in his veins. He pushes impotently against Lucius' shoulder, a growl on his lips.]

Hah! Do you think I would boast of my power to a man who could kill me? One does not show his hand so early. [His own lopsided smile twitches at one corner, the strain on his expression easily apparent.] First, to whom am I meant to be a pet? I hardly believe you are worthy of such a fine companion as myself!