Barnaby sprang back like a startled cat when the wings unfurled.

"I did n--" he started to protest, then remembered. Oh. Hmm. Right.

"I didn't mean it that way," he revised, putting his glass down next to the bottle (which, now that he noticed, was a good deal less full than before. He was probably going to regret that). "It was. You know, a turn of phrase. Metaphor. Thing." He paused. It was very hard to hold a conversation when the other party had cocooned himself. "Are you okay in there?"