Miraj listened to Julian patiently, his mouth stretching into an ever wider grin. When Julian finally finished, he started laughing. It started as a chuckle of incredulity, but gradually it spiralled out of control into a full-own bout of hilarity. Achashverosh clung to his master's chest, his head turned a full one-eighty degrees so that he could glare daggers at Julian with his wide, black-rimmed eyes.
When Miraj finally had regained enough control of his vocal capacity to speak, he pressed a hand to his forehead, and shook his head once more in disbelief. "Ahh... I apologize. I'm just laughing to keep myself from-- from weeping," he said, still chuckling. "Excuse me, but how is it even possible that you don't know what a necromancer is? Most people know just enough about them to decide that they hate them, but you -- do you live under a rock? In a cave, perhaps? Or are you just unbelievably thick-skulled?"
He knew he was being rude, and that he was probably only going to piss Julian off for a second time that day, but he couldn't help himself. It was as if Julian had categorically ignored his entire people, his entire livelihood. The only thing preventing Miraj from yelling at the werecat outright was the look of childish wonder and curiosity in Julian's eyes. It kind of reminded Miraj of himself. "Look, I can't fathom how you managed to live to your age without seeing a sorcerer, but because I am such a generous, magnanimous fellow, I shall enlighten you. Achasverosh, show him, please?"
Suddenly, there was no lemur. In its place, there was a rather hideous-looking monster, a serpentine tangle of spines and scales and claws and horns. "This," he said, stroking the demon's head, "Is Achashverosh, my familiar. He's a demon. And he most certainly is not a myth. He takes offense to that. Would you like to hold him?" Achashverosh made a hiss of protest, but Miraj ignored him. "He won't kill you unless I tell him to, so you needn't worry. He's not a particularly powerful demon, in any case."
