He gasped as the kick hit him squarely. The cold didn't bother him so much. Puck was an old member of the Unseelie, existing long before the Court ever had. He was used to cold.
"My place this morning is in my bed. Sleeping," he wheezed, trying to get his breath back, "Where is it written that hostile takeovers have to start at dawn? Why not noon? Or sunset?"