"Yeah. Once." He just about croaks the words, cheeks coloring at the memory as he shifts restlessly again. And wishes he had something to hold over his crotch. Or to cover or control the scent of lust he knows he's radiating... has been radiating low key since the General walked in, but is now probably rolling off him in waves. Lust and confusion and the faint tinge of intimidation and fear that thinking of any female like that always seems to bring.

"They tend to run. When they smell us." Thank the gods, he doesn't add, but definitely thinks, that they recognize a much larger, more terrifying predator by scent, as so many of the city's animals do.