[What can he say - being a creature that elicits the same response, it's hard not to fall into the trap.

With a moment of contemplation, he decides that if Ragnar is going to stay he wants to get closer. He shifts until he's leaning over him, and settles lazily on the older man's chest. He reaches over the side of the bed after a moment, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pile of clothing and lighting one with a snap of his fingers.]

Your people have magic mushrooms, right? Imagine something like that, except your greatest fear is surrounding you while you struggle to remember how to move. That's what will happen if you try to leave without my help. [He tips his head from side to side.] I'd say it's not magic, but hell if I know how it works. It's just a drug I rigged up with a rudimentary spring trap.

[Ah yes, those rudimentary spring traps that all normal people learn how to make. Why are you like this, Dodger.]