Avoiding hurt feelings appears to be at the bottom of Miguel's priority list, because he responds to the display with a thinly concealed scowl from across the room that should have come accompanied with stormclouds.

"Thank you, Wicked God of Mischief." he says dryly, with a substantial note of sarcasm.

The rhythmic jingling of two dozen nearby elves dampens the effect of his sour mood, scurrying around his shins like a school of fish to get to the available free Halloween bowl! He doesn't seem to linger too long on Loki, at least, settling into his chair to get to his task. It's always business with this one.

The task at hand seems to be fairly delicate, involving wire and the orange-petaled marigolds. The odd luminant one seems to be set to the side for now.