[Perhaps the first realization that something is incredibly wrong is that, instead of the slippery sensation of silken sheets around him, Eridanus instead feels the soft give of fur. In Vathea, the season hardly calls for pelts—but then, he hears it. The intake of air beneath his head, the subtle rise and fall of a chest. Is he in bed with some animal, he thinks to himself? Or worse... had he gotten too drunk at the tavern the night before, only to land in bed with a wargman?
Rather than stealthily checking to see which nightmare is correct, Eridanus suddenly bolts upright. His eyes widen at the sight before him—neither beast nor wargman, but certainly not any other type of creature he's seen before—and claps a hand over his mouth so as not to scream.
He needs to leave. Immediately.
And so he tries to. First gently grabbing the arm that's snaked around him to pry it off, only to see that—oh, Light, he's naked too—before trying to slide away from the slumbering thing beside him as quietly as possible.]
[Action] Morning of the 16th
Rather than stealthily checking to see which nightmare is correct, Eridanus suddenly bolts upright. His eyes widen at the sight before him—neither beast nor wargman, but certainly not any other type of creature he's seen before—and claps a hand over his mouth so as not to scream.
He needs to leave. Immediately.
And so he tries to. First gently grabbing the arm that's snaked around him to pry it off, only to see that—oh, Light, he's naked too—before trying to slide away from the slumbering thing beside him as quietly as possible.]