Hands
"You know, Professor," Therion said as he watched Cyrus turn a page in his book. "Those are some big hands you've got there."
Cyrus paused and blinked, looking at his hands. "Are they large? I never really paid much attention."
"Mm-hm, sure are. And you know what they say about guys with big hands," Therion replied teasingly.
There was no way Cyrus could be that dense, could he? He had to get the joke. Therion had heard their female allies, especially Primrose and Ophelia, groan about how utterly clueless the professor was, so Therion had to try it out himself.
However, for a few seconds, there was just silence as Cyrus continued examining his hands. Therion stared at him, the look of horror slowly growing on his face going completely unnoticed.
Finally, Cyrus said, "No, what do they say?"
He really was that dense. That settled it once and for all. There was no way Cyrus could possibly be faking it.
And that was a little bit horrifying, actually, when Therion thought about it.
"They're, uh... good at hugs," Therion deadpanned. "Yeah. That's it."
"Oh! That's quite nice, actually."
"Yeah, it's great."
Why did Therion put up with these people, again?