Rather than immediately stab him after she grabs him, she comments on his hair. He shakes his head like a dog to get the rest of the water out of it, which helps the familiar swirled spiky shape further reassert itself.

"Belonging to- You don't have to put it like that," Wilson sulks, and then starts gesticulating indignantly with the hand that isn't holding the axe. "You could just as easily say he's my evil magician."

"Have you seen him?" With an eagerness bordering on desperation, all thoughts of potentially getting run through with a harpoon gone from his mind.