Well at least he's easier to read like this. Though Emet-Selch has noted, of course, that the man's face has scarcely changed despite the pricking of his ears and the steady swaying of his tail.

Emet-Selch doesn't seem particularly perturbed as he tosses the last of the branches he's gathered into the fire. After all, the professor has always been a bit of anomaly as far as personalities go. Now he is much the same, just a little...fluffier.

Much of Emet-Selch's own scale growth remains hidden by his robes, and those that peek above his collar blend in well with the dark fabric. More telling, perhaps, are the flashes of gold scales at his wrists when he crosses his arms - that and the obvious progression of a beard along his jawline and chin.

"I did." He sounds a little stern, though there's no scolding to be had, nor anything that indicates he's even slightly upset. It's a major departure from their "talk" a month ago.

"If memory serves, we've a score to settle. And given your terms, the resolution of our little bet requires your participation as well."