George nodded, half listening, though he did grin at the Katie and drinking bit. It was certainly an of course thing. He started working on the head next—he'd hold off on the fire bit. He might have to get a book down to see how to replicate fire without it actually being... well, fire. But, in the mean time, he knew how to get it to turn this way and that, and to make it open it's mouth in a long, roaring motion. He'd need to figure out sound, too.
"Presents are definitely a good thing," he murmured, eyes still on the dragon. He turned and set it on his desk, watching it slowly stretch it's wings before tucking them back in, tail swishing agitatedly before it opened it's mouth in a roar (fire and noise to be inserted later.) So, standing still pose? Check. Now onto that flying.
George paused when he saw the letter again. He was shit at beating around the bush, so he casually threw out, "So, totally unrelated and all, but remind me again what happened with your last job?" He crossed his arms over his chest, still watching the dragon, debating his next move as if he were playing a game of chess, the dragon charming, his opponent.