[ Nathaniel is sitting behind the shop counter when the living bundle of clothes enters his shop. He simply stares for a good few seconds, completely motionless. ]
Oh, good lord.
[ And with that exceedingly English groan of dismay, he starts poking around beneath the counter. ]
no subject
Oh, good lord.
[ And with that exceedingly English groan of dismay, he starts poking around beneath the counter. ]
Mr. Agoraphobia, is it? One lightning staff?