[Dear lord, their argument has degenerated into tongue exhibiting. Kevin crosses his arms tightly, one of those sharp feathers he is still holding impatiently tapping on the side of his elbow. He will not stoop to Gilles' level!]

He smoothly grabs a smallish - and still talking - painting of Charles VII and throws it at the floating Frenchman. There!]

Do not hide behind your bloody owner, you foul coward! Your kind is drawn to Solomon's powers like bats to a candle flame!

[All right, so it is also a case of Solomon being drawn to demons. And it should have been moths instead of bats. But his point still stands!]