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He glances up, and gives Balthazar a lopsided smile. "I'm afraid my track record rather speaks against that, but thank you."

"It's hard to be comforting when you're in pain." He shrugs, awkward and a little uncomfortable himself. "But you were good to me, when we were boys."

He's careful not to mention the way things went wrong since then, in both their worlds. But he doesn't blame Horvath for that, in either case.

That's a surprising answer, in its way, and his heavy eyebrows jump a little. He looks sheepish, but it does help, more than Balthazar might know. "Was I? Even when I was being a brat? Not that you weren't a brat sometimes, too..." He means that with the deepest of affection.

His uncertain look melts back into a smile. "Yes. I needed a brother. You were that for me, especially when we were both being brats."

"The griffin was your idea." It's an old argument, but again and again he's made references to their childhood, and they always seem to line up.

"No," he says patiently, "I'm sure we've been over this. I said if we could find a cat that could catch the rooks, they'd stop stealing our crops and crapping all over the cobbles. Then you said that would take a cat with wings. Which I correctly pointed out would be like a miniature griffin. And it was. At first."

He sighs, but with a nostalgic smile. "Mmmm... it was a piece of work, though. Pity we couldn't've kept it small and trained it as a pet..."

"Wasn't really fair of us, though. But it was pretty remarkable magic. Even Merlin agreed on that part." His expression is a good match now.

"Nnnoooo... Horribly irresponsible. Grievous misuse of power and and wantonly disrespectful... but it was fun."

"Kind of makes you want to try a similar project, doesn't it? Not with a living animal, of course. But some sort of magical game or prank. Animating statues or turning streetlights purple..." He sighs. "Did I tell you about the Chrysler eagles yet?"

Horvath strokes his beard, thoughtful. "Mmm... the eagles... you don't mean the ones on the Chrysler building? Oh Bel, you didn't...?" He's impressed,.

He gives a guilty, but rather boyish, grin. "It took a long time to build the spell. It's not just a matter of animating them, I had to give them body memory and teach them to fly, too."

It's charming when he does that, like having a little piece of their youth back. "You know, most people, when presented with all of that, would ask you why..." And he really isn't asking, because he already understands, but he still feels like he should point this out anyway.

"That's why I don't tell most people." He sticks out his tongue.

"...They really fly?" He's not bird-obsessed the way Balthazar is, but he's just as fearless and the idea of riding on one of those things is as intriguing as hell.

"They do. At about 65 miles per hour." He grins. "Why, you want to try it?"

He sucks in a slow breath, and tugs on his goatee. "...Do you think I could hold on all right?" Because he really wants to, but he's come to seriously doubt his physical prowess over the past few decades.

"Your arms are stronger than mine are." Balthazar shrugs. "As if I'd let you fall if you lost your grip."

He's always been stronger, better at wrestling and the sword, and using a cane keeps up his strength there. "Point... I could catch myself for that matter, I just wasn't certain what there is to hold onto..." Surely there must be a decent way to ride them, if Balthazar's managed it. "I'd... like that."

"There are bars, behind the head. You'd be just fine." He gets up and offers Horvath a hand. Clearly the decision is made. Flying time!

His look of restrained hopefulness breaks into a little grin. He still has faint dimples. Today, he'll take the hand up without reservation, ready to follow Balthazar all the way to the top of the Chrysler building, and out into the air.

He really doesn't get out enough.