As who could only be described as some sort of wild beast man of the woods appeared in the trees and fucking sauntered over, Scarlet's tune became a low whistle of surprise.
"Ho...ly... shit," he breathed, watching the man come closer, his grip on the net tightening. If that truly was Arthur under all that hair, the last 21 years had certainly done a number on him. And was that... blood? "Well met, stranger," he called. "Or can I call you friend, and you let us out of this net so we can talk better?"