You barkin' at ME?

Hey Big Rodent: Congratulations on finding your voice. I commend your dedication when it comes to protecting our fortress, and with a little work you'll make a fine sentry one day. But it requires a little finesse, son. You don't bark at every leaf that quivers, nor every bird that flies over. And you sure as hell don't bark at me.

I can see how my stealthy movements would rattle you. It must seem like darkness itself has come alive with a terrible and sinister presence, and I'm sure even a careless ignoramus like you can sense the cold claws of sudden death lingering within the shadows. It must chill you to the bone.

But you've got to pull yourself together, boy. When you bark at me, you give away my position to every marmot in a ten-block radius. It's getting embarrassing, and my patience is wearing thin. If you persist in being The Boy Who Cried Shmool, I may have to give you something worth barking over.

And then the butt-sniffing. Is that supposed be some kind of apology? 'Cause let me tell you, that don't get it done.