Finn's thumbs hooked under the waist of his pants, his stance shifting from loose casualty into a stiffening challenge. He could stand living under a priest's roof, wading through his patience as they talked about his sins and misdeeds, he could even stomach the idea of sitting through hours of a personal sermon and bible passages. At least it was the kind of content his mind could roll around in that red head of his, but being prim and proper just wasn't in his nature. Like a petulant child, Finn's brows slumped, his lips pursed and with a cock of his head he was already at it, bright and early. 

"Think highly of myself? Huh," two broad shoulders widened if at all possible, and he stared the little priest down like some sort of sly fox to a rabbit. "And here I am, standing higher than you. You can get me to listen to your Christ stories all day long but it don't mean you're gonna get me to do a song and dance 'bout it when they come checking up on me." An otherwise aggressive statement came as natural as any other thing that came out of his mouth. A loose shrug of his shoulders, quirk of his light brows and he seemed to finish the honest blurb.  

"'Sides, you were the one who didn't want me as dirty like a grub no more. You want me to look nice? Ain't gonna happen wearin' the same clothes they wrangled me down in." Finn tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, already having rounded back down the stairs, feet clomping down against the hardwood with each step. "Oh, 'n that's a mighty fine way you have your hair, thought I might add."