[Jaskier was hoping for a bit of laughter, especially the most genuine kind, to ease any tension in the air. It works like a charm. Not only does she laugh, he gets to hear the sound of it.

Julie didn't need much prodding at him for this. She's beautiful, her laugh is delightful, and his heart is already finding its quicker rhythm.]

Mm. Well. [He looks down with her. His goat legs are, in fact, his legs right now, which is why he's such a natural on them.] I can certainly -- [Oh, there goes her hand. He shivers a bit, moving in closer, and his hand on her back moves lower. Oh, yes. He made sure the fur, the hair covering his chest (okay, he normally has that anyway), the horns -- they're real to him, in this place.] They can certainly be adjusted.

[To his credit, there's a reason he wrote a song about women fucking pucks. He's heard the kinks.] But I must hope you don't mind a bit of hair. [Or fur, as it were. As he ducks his head in close to her ear, his voice is closer to a whisper.] Tell me what you want, and it's yours.