"Ready," Merlin calls back once the fire is safely out. He ambles back over to grab his coat, slips it on and begins to do it up a little before grabbing his keys. It isn't that cold really, it's quite nice, but it's habit. He'll be hot in approximately 10 minutes and start undoing it again. "Come on then," he encourages, and shuffles them both out the house -- locking up behind them and grabbing out for Lancelot's hand again. He gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze as they head up the road. "They might have a maypole. The traditions are all a bit... muddled, some branches use some bits and some ignore them and use others -- like branches of Christianity I suppose. Anyway, we all agree that there should be fires and stuff so that bit stays. Sex in the woods is optional."

He winks playfully, nudges Lancelot as they walk.