Octavius looked over his shoulder to where Kenneth had escaped, and gave a small shrug when he turned back. He knew stubborn animals as well as anybody, and could sympathise strongly when it came to their temperaments. He also tried not to feel terribly guilty when he imagined how his brother was faring. Everybody and everything liked his terribly affable brother, however, so Octavius felt very confident (marginally confident) that Gebhard's stand-offish front was in fact just a front.
"Curse-breakers are of a rather flighty nature," he said matter-of-factly. He was also in a grand position to know that, having two of them for siblings. His gaze dropped to the creature still by her feet, and recognition dawned.
"And this, it appears, is Miss Larkin Whitby's." He bent to do something, perhaps pet the blindfolded niffler, but thought the better of it before his knee even crooked, and so straightened. Mummified nifflers did wonders to kill the cuteness factor. "I had lunch with her a few weeks back—well, probably a week and a half, or s—well, I'm not actually sure, but—your, er… wild man of a boyfriend," as she'd so concisely put it, "was nowhere to be seen."
No, he'd yet to have the pleasure of meeting the tool, but he'd managed to keep his eyerolls and snark to a minimum. "I can wholeheartedly assure you it's him and not you that has it wrong."
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