His large eyes narrow, posture bristling like an alley cat sensing potential threats from atop a fence. There's no reason in particular for why Claudia should always manage to get under his skin in quite the way she does, and yet... somehow she still always does, doesn't she?

Even in whatever form she's inexplicably — impossibly — appearing to him now, she brings it out: an ugly and almost child-like anger which only seems to boil infinitely hotter in his blood like a rapidly spreading grease-fire.

"Sorry to disappoint," he says primly, forcing a tense, humorless smile. Continuing as matter-of-factly as he can: "You had a family, yes— at least until you tried to murder your other father, also your Maker, in cold blood. A truly enviable relationship indeed— what a shame for me to have spent many happy decades with only Louis instead."