Ursalo returned the laughter, an alluring sound hissing from his throat.  His hand relaxed, spread out over Jera's clothes so that the demon's claws caught at the rough fabric.  Jera might live in a castle and work for a prince, but his clothes were not nearly the same quality; if Ursalo wasn't careful, he could rip Jera's shirt to shreds, and possibly him along with it.<br/><br/>"I suppose," the elf murmured, his grin widening.  Yes, he had answered his own question-- he knew how the other dark elves had reacted, had been there to see the demons arrive.  Everyone was frightened or repulsed, or both.  But not him... he thought they were fascinating.<br/><br/>"Well, maybe this sounds rude, but you're not very scary."  Jera realized Ursalo was dangerous, could kill him with those claws, and it was very probable his snakes were venomous...  But the demon seemed, in that moment, much less frightening than what was expected.  He was amusing, bold and impish, or so Jera suspected... and so very lovely.  His scales were beautiful, buffed to a shine, and those eyes were magnificent...<br/><br/>"What's to be afraid of?  I don't get the feeling you want to hurt me...  I think you want to make friends.  Right?"  The way Jera said 'make friends' was laced with innuendo, and he gave his head a coy tilt as he spoke, raising a hand just to lightly touch over Ursalo's fingers, pressed to his chest.  No, Ursalo didn't want to hurt him, he wanted to do something very different.