Regardless of Laharl not actually speaking the name, it still sent a chill down his spine. He could only hope his nose was playing some evil trick on him, that the girl was not there and all was still well. Or at least as well as it had been before Larxene was in the picture. However, such hopes were easily crushed when a matching voice rose.

Oh, she sure was happy to see them, wasn't she? The delight in her voice was impossible to ignore. If he weren't so frightened he surely would have shivered a second time, especially when hearing his name spoken. Though her interest seemed to focus on the demon, slightly setting him at ease. If he ran away now, grabbing Pumbaa on the way with him, he'd be Scott Free. But, on the other hand, he wasn't to sure if he legs could move even an inch back, never mind all the way out of the festival.

So instead, Timon could only stand stiffly in place, straight as board while watching the Nobody. Not a sound escaped him. His teeth did not dare even chatter our of fear. He silently begged for Larxene to leave repeatedly in his head. Surely there was something Death or Laharl could do... Right?