Fin really didn't like being carried this way, and his tail twitched in annoyance, whacking Felix's side with agitated little flicks as he let out a whine and attempted to nip at the wizard. There was no dignity at all in being held like some kind of feral kitten or, more like, a sack of sentient potatoes.

I'm not inside a fox, I am the fox, Fin huffed, attempting to squirm. Stop scruffing me like a poorly behaved dog, and- Oh, what's that? Something smells good, he said, sniffing the air and looking around.