Of course. Ravel, being a bunny, was really in no position to appreciate the fact that Solomon was seeing the manipulation of a soul at work. Not that it was much good for him, really. Solomon took a moment to examine the way it was shaped, as best as he could, before he felt a tug at his sleeve.

And paused.

And reached out, and, with some fumbling, found the scruff of Ravel's bunny neck, and lifted him up.

"For your sake," he said, though he sounded just barely amused, "that had better not have been my sleeve. I suppose you'll be wanting Raine, then."

He turned away from the table and brought the bunny in to cradle it in his arm, and went in search of Raine.