"...Babies. In a jar." One eyebrow rises, but knowing the wide variety of fae out there, and how unlike children some of their children seem to be, he's not going to really fault her. For all he knows, she thought they were something else entirely when she bottled them up.

"I really never had much traffic with them, but from some of the stories Merlin told- and the warnings he gave, I can't say that I'm entirely sorry. The fae have mostly retreated, here."

Swish, swish, goes the floofy grey tail, and the cat watches her glancing its way, and considers for a little longer after she looks away. Very slowly, it creeps forward and begins to curl itself around Horvath's right leg.

"Hmm? Oh... it's all right sweetheart. We're all cat-people, here." It's a subtle shift, but Horvath's voice rolls slightly into that tone little old ladies use talking to their fluffy lapdogs.