It’s Wriothesley. Hah, don’t worry about it. This plays does a good job making us look like fools. You wouldn’t be the first person nor the last who gets caught with a hard on. [His lips quirk in a wry smile.] It’s happened to me plenty

[He hasn’t realized he was event emitting any scents. The mix of a chilly wind and the tang of metal with the warmth of something earthy fills Astra’s senses as she buries her face in his neck.

And Wriothesley is finding he isn’t completely unaffected. It’s like suddenly there’s an itch in the back of his neck. Like he wants her to touch upon his nape. With lips. With teeth. He doesn’t know when this thought starts flooding his mind, but now it won’t leave.

As he finds somewhere that will offer them privacy, he finds his skin feeling warmer every second. His body aches with want and he realizes too late the familiarities of symptoms that bear resemblance to his suit and to that time he was a rabbit. It’s only then that he also realizes just how nice Astra smells.

Sweating a little with pants, he leans against a tree with Astra in his arms.] Something is wrong… [He shouldn’t be reacting this way.]