Khoriya strides through the forest with the human slung over his shoulder, all senses on alert and ears swiveling at any sound in the brush, any distant footfall that might herald the arrival of more unwelcome creatures.

So he doesn't notice at first, the stirring in the man's groin. Not until Khoriya shifts his grip so that his broad hand is set firmly at the small of the human's back, rough palm all but squeezing his ass - and catches that press of hot flesh, the whiff of arousal.

Doesn't... really know what to make of it. Truth be told, Khoriya had never much dealt with attraction turned his way - especially not since he'd been revealed as a reviled mongrel prince. For lack of any better response, he glances back to affix Bob with a cold, narrow-eyed stare.

"Aren't you a presumptuous whelp."