At first, Liam felt some fondness. That was exactly how his Master hit him, and it had been so long since that reassuring cane had landed on his head.
However, pain came next. Horace's cane had always hurt, but never as much as the fan, and the latter didn't even stop there.
Foreign anger invaded Liam's mind as the fan swung repeatedly at his head, eventually forcing him to raise his arms to defend himself, which did little against a flying item.
The fan circled Liam and swung at his openings, assaulting him in a very unfriendly manner. Nothing ever bled, but Liam could swear bruises were already forming.
"Wait, wait!" Liam said, not really thinking about the fact that he was trying to talk with a literal fan.
Nevertheless, the fan reacted, albeit not to words. Whatever Liam had said, his intentions had carried through the mental connection in a way that the magical item understood.
