Honeyed Pasture take off all the thoughts of what we've been

The second touch sent a shudder through him; not the pleasant kind. He was oblivious to Phocion's presence, but the priest entered his mind then nonetheless. Cortland swallowed hard listening to the stranger, nausea rising in his throat now. Gross gross gross. The feeling of teeth in his fur was ultimately too much. His skin crawled, and his friend's face flashed through his mind unbidden.
No, It came out louder than he had intended. The Mayfair took fast, shaky steps back, putting distance rapidly between them. His ears pinned to his skull, eyes suddenly wide with shame, shock, guilt. The next words came out soft, lilting and trembling with the effort of speech. S—sssssorry... no.