The gryphon canted his head to the side to watch the monk's hand curl around the haft of one of the arrows. "You are certain this is how you properly remove an aRRRR-" The word rose to another feral shriek/roar, a disconcerting mix of the pitch of an eagle's cry and the bass of a lion's bellow. The retracting arrowhead tore skin and flesh, widening the wound and sending a gout of blood running down the feathers. He snapped his beak shut to remain silent as the second was pulled from his skin. The pain left the creature panting and compliant as the bindings were wound tightly around him, and once secured he briefly pushed against them with his wings; they did not move so much as an inch.<br/><br/>"Of course. Brother... Al, correct? I am thankful for your hospitality; might I ask where I may sleep? I am sure you are so gracious as to offer me your bed, but I do not think we could share it. You are too large."<br/><br/>The gryphon stared at Al with its same intense, voracious stare.<br/><br/>"...I am sorry. I thought some humor might make you more comfortable. I forgot that I cannot smile."