[ Sleipnir lets out a sigh, his demeanor showing no repentance and no feelings of concern. If anything he looks a little put off, or peeved. His voice remains ever calm in his usual slow style of speaking. ]

Yes, you can dodge a stick, truly impressive. You are worthy of being called: Dominant.

[ He turns now back to the oddly formed table with the fuzzy green top and grasps another of the small cues. Sliepnir holds it, seems to weigh it, then looks back to Bahamut over his shoulder. ]

You were meant to catch it, Bahamut. It would not do to ruin our gracious host's possessions, would it?