[He thinks nothing of the rhyming for now - it could be coincidental, after all.]

You wound me.

[A clawed hand is splayed across his chest for effect.]

You supposed me to be a figment of your imagination... and I recall our conversation ended most abruptly. [Absently flicking his tongue across his lips, he adds:] I have always had horns, my dear man... don't we all? Only my own are now visible.