Mictain raised an eyebrow. "Now, now. I haven't even said anything yet, aside from greeting you," he said, flashing a fanged grin. "Last I knew it wasn't called causing trouble. For your information, I haven't done anything wrong since my... arrical. Not a thing, which is definitely less than what Michael did during his time here. Unless you count talking to you as causing trouble, like you apparently do. Makes me wonder how much of that trouble is because of you."

He noticed Raphael arming himself. Whatever he was nowadays, he was still a warrior. He wasn't about to miss a weapon being pocketed in his presence by a being who had every reason to hate him. Or, rather, had no true reason to hate him -- what had he ever done, aside from taking Michael's place? -- but who thought he had every reason to do so. He didn't say anything, merely gazed meaningfully at the pocket with the scalpel, hoping the healer would get the hint.

"I know we're still in the manor, yeah. I may have been easy to mislead, but even I am not as thick as to miss a big, old building all around us. What does that have to do with anything, though? It's not like I was trying to attack somebody or anything. I simply want to talk."