[Though his eyes drift shut at that soft brush of tongue against his skin, the marker provides a distinct hindrance to any further delights. With an exaggerated sigh he leans back himself.]

All right, then, I consent to be washed. But let the record show that I resisted with all my demonic might. [It's been a joke between them for centuries.] And I think the best-laid plans of mice might be along the lines of a jewel heist, but for all the things in the pantry people don't want mice getting into.