He wishes very suddenly that he was still a vampire, or that he had his elemental whangee. At the moment, he's just some bird off and about a stroll without even a walking stick with which to threaten. It isn't the ideal sitch for appearing to be an imposing sort of chap.

Still, Bertie draws himself up, though he wants to cower away, and raises his chin defiantly. "Me, and a dozen like me. Jay's one of the most well-liked fellows in the village." That... is stretching things a lot, but Bertie's still fairishly certain that everyone apart from Dustin would stand up to Raimut on Jay's behalf.