"You're cute, much cuter than your predecessor," Donovan continued on, "but just as humourless." Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the body and pulled out a long strip of material, lifting the priest's head gently in his other hand. "I guess they never let you out much though, do they?" he shrugged, didn't really keep too close attention to the going-ons. "Probably aren't too used to having your authority ignored, either," he added, blatantly ignoring the man's authority.
"Don't worry, we'll be gone soon enough," he promised with a light hum. Hunched over and face mere inches from that of the now softly glowing body's, he whispered a short chant to release the spirit. Fingers grasped at his billowy sleeves, and Donovan helped tug the complacent spirit free. He wrapped the strip of material around his eyes to keep him calm, unaware. Just as still as the now emptied husk on the bed.
"You know more of me than you think, Cleric," he pulled back his hood, ruffled his hair a bit lazily. "You give me enough presents."