Andrew's not even thinking of staying hidden. He's imagining just flopping onto Edgar's hand and being lifted up and then being there. The suggestion of the pocket, therefore, is not entirely welcome...but even in his addled state, he can see the wisdom of it, at least after a moment or two of frowning like he's got a bad taste in his mouth. He nods his acquiescence.

"I'm not normally like this," he says, worried what Edgar must think of him and his tendency to go about at this size. Foolish, really. Why does he do these things?