Aslan raised his hands in faux protest.

“I said no such thing,” he claimed, though it didn’t sound like an especially strong assertion.

He had the brief paranoia that perhaps this … budding detective, who beckoned he walk with him, had overheard a certain priest and mustache-clad man one night. Did he? Well. Blackmail hadn’t come up, so no matter.

Rather than answer to ‘flying lesson’ (did he? Allah Allah) … Aslan fell into step and whistled. Like a bird. A lilting, quick warbler.