[Molly has deigned to just put the cuff on the tip of one of his horns, and it seems to be holding, despite his best efforts to keep prodding it to see what else it does. Fortunately, the new arrival in his periphery keeps from breaking the damn thing and the warm cider smell is a welcome distraction.]

Bless you. [He takes the cider and takes a sip, relaxing into the tapestry even more. He repeats "Bless you" again, murmured with a bit more reverence, and then he gets a good look at Diamond.] You have a great aesthetic, my friend, and I love everything about how shiny you are, but you're making me cold just looking at you. What's your secret?