"Hey, man, if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen, yanno what I mean?" One man's freak was another man's normal right? Sid personally had goat legs that he typically chose to glamour--even here on the island of misfit toys--because Satyrs weren't really everyone's cup of tea, as much as people liked to name quaint inns after them. Everyone thought the idea was cute and adorable until you were face to face with a six foot tall goat man and then. Well. It was hit or miss, really.
"Noted," Sid said, nodding to the first point. "I'm honestly not sure how touchy people are about those things these days, but if you can keep it to a bare minimum, I won't complain. As for the other thing, I think we can find ways to keep you busy, so. No big deal. Cross training maybe?" Gods he had no clue what he was doing. Ah well. "I like the cut of your jib, bro. You've got my vote." As if his vote wasn't the only one necessary.