"Yeah well, being fucking rude is not in the list of things they're allowed to do whether they want to or not." Miguel glowered at the water bowl, which sent up a stream of apologetic bubbles. "Yeah," he muttered, "that's what I thought."
He sighed and slanted a sideways look at Luke, already half-expecting the awkward body language and uncomfortable expression. Still, he winced a little bit to see it all the same. "Okay malcriaditos," he held his hands out for the wisps to cluster into. "I think it's way past time you all started pulling your weight around here of freeloading and bothering people."
All the wisps except for the two huddled in Luke's hand gathered over Miguel's right palm, coalescing again into a cloud. He coaxed them into a smaller, denser sphere that seemed to hum quietly, sparks of multicolored light flashing through it dimly, as if viewed from far away. He glanced over at Luke again, one eyebrow raised.
"Hey," he said. "Sorry. Really. It was rude of them. You wanna take a free swing at me or something? Won’t hold it against if you do, hand to God."