Her could hear her, careening down the path, just seconds after he had taken his fall. Another quick chant, this time for himself. A boost in testosterone and a boatload of other hormones but also pheromones to influence her further. That was something he had learned by now. Magic (if one could call it that) nearly never created, it mostly was there to boost certain things. And by now he didn't really know if this was body control or an actual spell. Through his training he was so in control of his own body and mind that it would probably be a little bit of both.<br/><br/>When she jumped over him another quick chant from his lips. A mere whisper as he looked at her. The graze garbled it up though. Where the effect on her shouldn't have been more then a nudge, he could feel the alarm in his own body to the graze, like in a moment before a crash, thinking this would be painful, only with that fleeting touch, a true crash never followed. His body had responded in kind though. The sensed threat making the spell more powerful than it should have been. Where she should have gotten just a slight nudge, on her own hormones, he hit her full force. These spells were once used by the ancients to boost stamina for newlyweds, to help priests and pharaohs make sure they got offspring... ah fuck. He hoped the effect would not be too extreme.<br/><br/>Oh... Fuck... what an ass... when she stood there, slightly bend, he got the full view. Powerful legs, small waist as she straightened. The ponytail of that gorgeous color. Oh. He could imagine drawing that taught. To make sure that round ass braced for the first impact of his hips. His own chant having its effect too, but then again, the more potent spell he shot at her could have its own side effect on him. She turned. By now he realized why it had just been a graze. With grace (hah, lovely play on words if I say so myself) he had rolled with her jump. He had flattened his profile so she wouldn't hit him full force. That would have been more of a problem for her than for him anyway; it would have send her flying to the tarmac as he had done earlier. The roll meant that he was on his side, nearly in a fetal position. Making it look a lot worse than it actually was.<br/><br/>Now, when she turned, he was rewarded with a pretty face, eyes fixed on him. A look of slight anger changed to one of worry. Her gym outfit showed off her perfect physique. She extended her hand to him, her slender fingers gripped by a powerful hand as he hauled himself up into a sitting position just as she lowered down. That meant they were so damn close. Her coming down was not expected. He had thought she would haul him onto his feet. Their faces so close their noses nearly touched. Gazes locked. But he broke the tension. Turning his head to look at his feet. Both hands going for his right ankle. Taking it in a hold. "Ah... fuck..." muttered in a dark vibrato. A surprisingly warm voice. A British accent too. "I'm sorry...". as he looked at her again. Their faces still close, but without too much of the tension he had just felt. "It wasn't my intention to lay here like some sort of hurdle...".<br/><br/>He released her hand then. His hand travelled to her shoulder, laying it on the fabric of her shirt. His mind repeating the chant he had flung at her earlier. But he knew it wouldn't be anywhere near powerful enough without audible words. But he touched her. Which meant the effect would be quite local. Added to that the quick push of energy of his hand into her skin, a perfection of what we would now call Reiki techniques. He pushed himself up, mostly by muscle and his hand in the ground, making sure he didn't weigh on her too much. But pushing up immediately meant sagging through that one ankle. "Ah... fuck!" Again. As if he just jilted himself inside of her and was amazed at the tight fit. Those words he'd use. He limped a few paces. A painful look on his face.