That was probably for the best. His ability to keep himself upright even on something with four legs could be shaky at the best of times. At first it seemed he wouldn't answer her, as if it wasn't obvious what was bothering him and why was she even bothering him about it--

He stalled that train of thought and for a moment just rested his face against his hands. Then, he picked up a quill and wrote in his usual messy script on a piece of parchment.

im going to FAIL

The final word was underlined fiercely enough to tear the parchment under it, the tip of his quill snapping against the table.