"No," Rowan replies. His eyes are fixed, currently, on someone being used as furniture. He cannot imagine anyone but, maybe, an Unsavory getting enjoyment out of this. It's all too weird for his little virginal mind.

He turns his head toward the other, noting the brief sort of smile on his face. It's not the abject horror or utter confusion that should be there, so Rowan frowns.

"What do you mean you get it though?"