For probably a week now, Sizot has been constantly bringing food to your room. No, of course, he's a good man who cares about you, but... so often? This raised questions.

And now, bringing you breakfast in bed again, you ask, and he blinks stupidly, as if it's obvious.

"Mating season..." he says, hissing with laughter. "Can I mate with you during my mating season, my love? That's what I wanted to ask you."