Was it the alcohol, was that it? Trent wondered, and was about to put the bottle down, parting with it gladly as if it were some kind of voodoo device, when Strelein took it from him. Trent looked up at Strelein, briefly, then looked away, willing very muchly so for his thoughts of the black and grey wolf to go from his mind. He hadn't even seen him for over half a year. This was ridiculous, anyway, thinking so much about someone he didn't even know. But everything Strelein said... It made sense, even if it still felt wrong. Why on earth couldn't he just have born normal? All Trent wanted was to be normal, but here it was...
Sunken in thoughts about the dark hunky stranger and his own woeful existence, which didn't really help his erection very much, Trent hastily responded to Strelein's suggestion that it wasn't him, his voice a little shrill, "Gods, no!" Well, that hadn't meant to come out quite as unflatteringly as it had... The coywolf continued, equally hastily, "I mean, ah, not that you aren't, uh..." Could this situation get any worse, really? "I was just thinking about what you said, and then I thought about someone I, uh..." He trailed off there and looked away, while scratching himself behind his left ear guiltily.
Hoping desperately that he hadn't insulted Strelein and feeling a little babbly because of the wine heavy on his mind, Trent swiftly added, unaware that he was repeating himself, "Not that you aren't, I mean, you are, uh, look great." Stupid dark stranger didn't really want to leave his brains just yet, and Trent cursed his far too imaginative, picture-thinking brain, because the sooner his erection would just go away, the sooner the awkwardness would be over. Err, he hoped.