"It is only a kiss, Alistair. Or perhaps fucking him- which would mess with his head more than mine." Zevran found those pamphlets about elves and considering them animals, oh yes. Without missing a beat he tugs a spare lace from his pack and offers it over.

"He will not hurt me. I have handled men twice his size with half his consideration." Trousers, gone- flicked to the side of the tent while he rummages about for something to sleep in- there is bound to be something appropriate in his pack.