"You're not doing anything too bad at the moment," Johte said.  His voice was low and warm, and there was something- something soft about it,<i>dangerously</i>soft, not in a threatening way but in a way that might raise hairs along the back of one's neck anyway, if a Pureblood had any.<br/><br/>"Though I do have an urge-"  He paused to exhale a little chuffing laugh, the mild toss of his head doing very little to shake the dark mop of his hair away from his brow.  "Just to test your mettle.  Not to strike you down.  It would be a waste of energy to fight, but- I'm no sage."  He shrugged his broad shoulders, adding, "The urge is going to be there."<br/><br/>As he spoke, he continued to cradle Procion's lightsaber in his palm, and his thumb continued to stroke the inscription in an unconscious gesture, gently tracing across each carefully etched symbol.  If he hadn't been wearing his gloves-<br/><br/>That little laugh again, as he nodded at his own lightsaber, suspended in the air- was he being coy?  That didn't seem right.<br/><br/>"Why don't you touch it?  Afraid it'll burn your hand?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>