There are something equal parts infuriating and relieving at hearing the somewhat thundering charge he's come to associate with the Iron Bull. Infuriating because the lummox intercepted this rampaging moose-beast as though he were some sort of damsel in distress, which he most is not, and relieved because it means there is suddenly a rather stalwart and large wall between him and a gored death at the hands of this oddly armored monstrosity.

Someone its own size, indeed, he thought as the Bull bodily stepped between them. He didn't care, of course. Admittedly, at least to himself, it was more a comfort than an annoyance to be saved by the Iron Bull. It also did silly little teasings to his stomach, an excited flutter that made his breath catch momentarily. Well, now, that was unacceptable.

He tilted his head back, chin high, and covered his excitement with annoyance. "Appropriate, but you're late. Aren't you supposed to be a bodyguard?"