Whitefish River Red Bull and minivans

Something about the way the man smiles at him sets his heart off-beat for a moment, and he finds himself struggling to form any coherent thought to respond to him. Nap... together? he wonders, puzzled as to why the thought makes his skin crawl a little in a strange, heated way. He only manages a nod, tail swishing slightly as he watches Evergreen expectantly. Surely he doesn't mean together — it'll all be clear in a moment. And if he does... well, Winterbourne isn't inclined to complain.