He huffs a soft chuckle, a bit self-conscious. "I'm worried about the dancing perhaps more than anything, boots or not."

Though he might try to hide it with a lighter tone, there is a decided edge to his voice when he speaks again. "I have been called 'rabbit' enough times here alone to surmise that much." He hates the term 'rabbit' more than 'knife ear'. At least if someone called him knife ear, they were earnest about their bigotry. The coo of 'rabbit', as though he were some sort of pet... the elf hates it.

But returning to the prospect of Zevran helping him lightens his spirits, and he nods once more. "If it's no trouble, I'd like that."