"Ah, it's no wonder," Artair stretched his back and hind legs, forepaws flexing and digging claws into the ground, "The Tower of London has such a dark history, it wouldn't be surprising if something was lingering and affecting the visitors. I've been alive long enough to have witnessed a great number of the executions and tortures here. The grounds are drenched in blood."
Still, that didn't excuse the behavior of the humans or make it any less worrying. He stood on his hind legs and put his forepaws on her knee so he could bump his head against her chin. Anyone looking who wasn't supposed to would just see a woman and her cat if he had any say in it. "Perhaps the burlesque should close for the duration - not that I've got any say in that, of course."