"I'm taking that as a slight about my judgment. Which is fine. You're more than entitled to your opinions," says Ishiah impassively, letting the remark roll off of his shoulders like water on oil. It's in a puck's nature to think themselves superior, after all. In the ways that matter.

The water for the pasta has come to a boil, and Ishiah carefully slides in the noodles before turning his attention to the shrimp, deftly cleaning them with quick turns of his wrist.

"You're right, though. If I were to pick one part of this ordeal that strikes me as the most frustrating, it's being asked to fulfill tasks in certain ways that I don't consider practical. Ironic, isn't it, that I would have trouble following orders," muses Ishiah, breathing in, letting his chest expand into the soft touch of Robin's hands. "But my loyalty to Castiel makes it impossible to disentangle unless absolutely necessary. And even then..."

His voice falls silent. Ishiah's done more than risk his neck before.