"Which part?" He looks away from the dog to examine Benevenuta's face instead. What a terrifying human. "I'd put money on the culprit being a nug, personally, if you didn't witness—"

The puppy, still held awkwardly in the air, makes one of those squeaky grunty noises puppies make before they're good at barking. Alistair doesn't look back at it—he isn't that weak—but he does fold it in to his chest.