His hand snatches back down when he sees the storm is changing. He would hate to interrupt the display! Once Thor has the lightning in his grasp, Micolash quickly drops back down into sitting with his gangly legs all haphazard. Watching closely with eyes wide enough to catch the light of the sparks.

When finally asked if this is sufficient proof, Micolash claps with appreciation! "How fascinating! No tool, no weapon, to channel it? You're not holding spark paper in your hands just to trick me, are you?" He says it in a faux conspiratorial voice, playful in his suspicions. But then he heaves a big sigh while folding up his knees so he can rest his elbows atop them, hands under his cage to rest his head there.

"Sparks, however, are the realm of beasts. What other creature can conjure the blue energies but the darkbeasts? Our own darling specimen, Paarl, continued to emanate them even after its death; lightning existed in its very bones. And lightning is horrifically harmful to kin! Ah, you remind me of Archibald overall. A genius I took to harbouring in my college to develop his tools and weapons that focused on the sparks. Weaponry helpful in warding off what our rivals would send after us. Beautiful and powerful, yes, but the antithesis of the divine, I'm afraid."

Oh, come on.