It's not my fault that I'm better than you

Cass, despite the situation, was feeling pretty good about himself right now. He was fully dressed, in Byron's capable arms, with his hands laid gently in his lap and wrapped in linen wraps filled with herbs and other things that the Doctor had given him, and he could already hear the yelling. 

He was excited. Any tiredness had disappeared as Sam walked beside him nervously, Byron's heart was racing in his chest, and Sir Forsythe had a rather serious and severe expression on his face. The Doctor had their hood back on, which Cass knew had to be magical since you couldn't tell that he had horns. At all. His head looked flat, like a human head.