He gives him a hard look, one that allows no nonsense.

"Finish your packet of cookies and water and we'll talk."

As they should have before any of this. He walks over to the couch. A love seat really that he managed to squeeze into the small office. He grabs the blanket off of it, lotuses and purples woven into the soft thickness of it, and carefully tucks it around Sizhui. What the hell had he gotten himself into?