He wondered if she'd told Cordelia yet. If not, he would have to. But in the meantime, he was more than content to sit in the park by the duck pond and toss bread to the feathery little butterballs. Actual patrolling could wait for when he was in a bad mood or something. As he sat on the grass and tore little chunks from the loaf of bread, he felt something grate against his senses. Aw hell...
Still, he was feeling far too content to want to investigate and escalate. So, instead, he remained sitting and called out in a low, carrying voice, "These ducks're under mah protection, y'ken? So unless ye really want the mountain ye die on tae be ducks, c'mere, sit down and help me feed the wee wankers."
Orangeish Sherbert