Probably - sieges were usually pretty noticeable - but Edmund was used to stalking silently through forests and hallways alike. His life had depended on it more than once.

What a shy, easily embarrassed steward! But he'd told the truth, Edmund could tell, and that fact alone dissolved the annoyance lingering after the frustrating conference with the other sovereigns and their advisors. He appreciated when people told the truth.

A tail to swish would be nice right about now. He didn't care what Peter said, he'd change when he damn well wanted to. Like right now. Edmund slid into his Panther form with an elegant shimmy of forepaws to step out of his clothes - he'd pick those up laters - and gave a contented swish of his long black tail. "Oh really?" His voice sounded duskier, raspier in this form, but the same dry sensibility was behind it.

He padded over to a side-table in the hallway and ran the tip of his tail along its edge. It came up with hardly a trace of dust - the stewards here did their work well - and he held up for Al's inspection. "Seems to work just fine." Was that...a sparkle of humour in those night-dark eyes?