As much as Taako can carefully choose his words and pretend he's fine, some things aren't under his direct control-- the gestures of his ears one of them. His own tight grasp at his mysterious umbrella's handle betray his nerves even further.

He doesn't like this.

But he laughs a little at her comment, swinging his umbrella up to rest against his shoulder.

"Uh, yeah, that's for sure. I'd rather they stab me in my pride than in my poor, soft, beautiful body."