Furt curls up on the floor near Jakus' chair, glaring at the forcefield balefully. The rat-ogre can't understand the words of its leash-holder, but it won't approach the unfamiliar magic just yet.

Instead, the massive horned rodent lets off some steam, ripping loose with a massive malodorous cloud of gas from his rear end.

The fart is so rank it's almost visible. Hopefully none of the other patrons mind too badly.