Why was it the one person who recognised him just happened to be one of the gods he was trying to steal from? That was some cruel trick of fate, right there. "I am," said Much, cocky, because cocky felt like a good default right now. With a slight of hand that should have fooled anyone, he slipped the arrow into his back pocket so his hands were free to look innocent elsewhere. "Putting the Merry in merrymaking since the thirteenth century."