He is handsome, she decides, and he fights the enthrallment faster than most. It is frustrating to note, but also deeply thrilling, and she decides that she likes that challenge of it. Likes to see what it takes to play with different individuals—how some seem to welcome the commands and others resist them. Noting the way he looks at her so appreciatively, she wonders what will happen if she is to pretty it up.
So she does.
Her body shifts ever so slightly, her eyes growing slightly more doe-like, her smile more flirtatious than coy. It is a subtle change and one she is still mastering, but she feels confident in her ability to do so.
“Hello, Pteron,” she murmurs, letting her silvery voice grow just a touch breathy, lingering on the syllables of his name as her gaze falls over him, not bothering to hide her discernment. When she comes back to his eyes, she maintains the eye contact. “My name is Rosebay,” glad of the feminine way that the name curls on her tongue, the way she can hold onto the last sound of it before she breathes it out.
That cloying scent of oleander reaches her noise and she remembers the blossoms tucked into her mane. She arches her neck slightly so that they are more prominent as she returns to that eye contact, her gaze just a touch too intense, too intimate for having just met him. “The flowers are beautiful, aren’t they?”
A pause and a silvery laugh, as if she had asked if she was the beautiful one.
but in all chaos, there is calculation
@[Pteron]