Those mice who were micing were getting yet another strange look. Yes, from the large green man who was slowly cultivating a set of tusks and some magic powers.

"Huh," he mused. "That's a new one to me. They talk?"

A pause.

"Obviously they talk."

Another pause.

"Is that normal?"

"Religious talkin' mice," Fjord echoed. "You know, if I wasn't already in the habit of being occasionally mugged by raccoons, I'd start worrying that I hit my head too hard yesterday on the shelving at work."

In fairness, he was still not completely ruling that one out.

There was, in fact, a pretty healthy goose-egg there! Fjord cleared his throat, and then shrugged a bit and smiled wryly.

"Was startled while crouched under a shelf yesterday, was all," he explained. "Loud noise, I jumped."

There had been stars. And a rabbit.

"It wasn't great. I almost managed to forget about it before too long, at least," Fjord noted.

... Because he'd been landed on by a naked Amaya. Which he was not sharing.

"I have a hard head," he said, instead. Because gods, what was his mouth even doing, the traitor.

"... What, me hitting my head on things? I mean," Fjord blinked, "I try not to make it a habit or anything."

His thumb also looked a little bit like hell, what with how he'd been swinging a hammer around while distracted later that day.

Oops?

These injuries were so much smaller than so many things Fjord was going to suffer from in his future!

"It'd be a pretty stupid habit," Fjord pointed out. "Yesterday was just, ah... distracting."

No big!