The look on his face shows one of boredom, edging into the irritated, if the twitching of the tip of his tail is anything to judge by. While magazines are a foreign concept to him, he won't ask what it means and risk having her talking at him longer than he absolutely must. Already it has been too long. He had wanted a relatively peaceful day after classes and look where that headed.

Though her distraction with his familiar proves beneficial, at least for a moment, and he decidedly does not rise to her bait as he turns away, tossing a hand up in a half wave that he doesn't feel to head farther down the path, where the plants look less and less friendly, less and less tame as the cobble goes on. And Califleur, having been enjoying soaking up the adoring praise, has been keeping an ear out for her master and turns her head back to look when she hears he's leaving them.

For harsher lands. Her concerned chuffs don't even slow Kuja's step - she knew they wouldn't. They hadn't before. After a glance back at Chaos and Isabel and a puff off a whurrble, she trots hurriedly after him.