Caster: A baby bird? Really? Master, there must be something wrong with my ears. Because I just heard something COMPLETELY moronic.
Robin: Huh? Of course there's something wrong with them. They're freakin' huge. ...I've never seen a fox-girl before.
Caster: Ah. I was just struck with a thought. I will never get along with green boy.
Robin: I was thinking the same about a certain overgrown fox. Your Master is a rookie. Clear enough for you?
Caster: I get it now. It's not my ears that are at fault, but that diseased lump you call your brain. I thought so. Or did you intend for your pathetic mewling to be some kind of riotous joke? I was hoping for a bit more sincerity in your sarcasm... Seriously, is a bird and a fox the best you can do? But considering your position as a self-proclaimed pseudo-hero, maybe being imaginative is beyond you.
Robin: Goddamned fox. But then again, I was always pretty good at hunting down foxes. Sorry, but this is where things get serious. Cry and beg all you want, I won't forgive you.
Caster: Is that so? I pity weaklings like you, but if that was a joke I'd only leave you half-dead. If you were even one percent serious, I'd never forgive you. I think you need to DIE. NOW.
Robin: I'm turning you into a pincushion right now! It's been a while since I've hunted such interesting game!