Dorian turns a look over his shoulder to the bold little man with his striking hair. There is something about the tone, and the exclamation, that strikes Dorian as familiar, though he is not certain enough to decide to put his finger on it. The situation will reveal itself on its own eventually, without Dorian making any wrongheaded presuppositions.

He narrows his eyes in good-natured suspicion, puzzling the boy out. He gives a throaty laugh.

"Oh, of course not. Sometimes I also zap them to bits with lightning or freeze them in a block of ice. One has got to use the proper tool for the proper task, of course. There's a lot to be said for a little variety in a diet!"