[John's balance is markedly improved thanks to his tail, but he's still a human in his late-thirties. It takes him about as long to mount the furniture as it might otherwise. There's no hesitation in the actions, though. His focus is singular for several minutes until he winds up pulling the curtains down on top of himself and Berit in a bid to get the light.
His tail fluffs up, and he darts away from that to hide. It's as he's crouching near a cabinet, panting lightly, that he realizes exactly what he's doing. When he does, there's embarrassment followed by anger. John stands, planting his hands on the counter and glaring at his friend.]
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His tail fluffs up, and he darts away from that to hide. It's as he's crouching near a cabinet, panting lightly, that he realizes exactly what he's doing. When he does, there's embarrassment followed by anger. John stands, planting his hands on the counter and glaring at his friend.]
Sherlock...