“Oh, my dear— my dear, I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Trelawny says apologetically, at least having the decency to look sheepish about getting caught for the second time. “I do hope those hunters weren’t too troublesome to deal with.”

The top buttons of his dirtied white shirt are missing, his hair is far more tussled than you’ve ever seen it and there’s a stain of recently dried blood from his nose— though it didn’t look too broken.

He rubs his chafed wrists with a slight wince.