Sweeney was starting to resign himself to the fact that he was going to be a very small dog for a considerable amount of time. The Djinn seemed quite content with having him in her purse, with having him be less than who and what he was. Jeannie was a vile, vile woman and when he got back to his normal form he'd... he'd... he'd...
He'd do nothing short of stomping his foot and threatening her. Sweeney didn't hit women. Even women that deserved it. And this woman certainly deserved being put in her place.
But now she was talking to him as if they were friends. They were not friends, would never be friends, if anything they were becoming bitter enemies who just happened to be in an unfortunate situation. He was glad her blink didn't work, damn glad for it. Maybe it would teach her a lesson about messing with others.
At the same time, it also meant that unless the City willed it, he'd be stuck as a dog for the same amount of time. "Maybe he's gone," he barked, and laid comfortably down in the purse. If he was going to be stuck in this form, he might as well make himself comfortable. But if she so much as stuck her finger in there to touch him, he'd bite it.