[Paul smiles in reassurance, his agitation passing (or at least better concealed) like a singular cloud. He wants this to be fun, to be easy - lingering on awkwardness is the opposite of that.]

I promise I do know enough about eggs not to crack any one I see for cakes.

[He pats Falco's shoulder again, not wanting to introduce more flour to his hair (although that was probably a lost cause, already) before turning back to the cake.]

Does he have a name, your not-quite-bird? I'll need to know when we ice one of these cakes for him, in apology. Dear So-and-so, I pledge not to put you into cakes, so on, so forth -

That's a little long for a cake, I think. Unless we make it very big.