<span style="font-weight: bold">Bluff, Nope</span><br/><br/>"I'm sure they'll get along exquisitely," Madame Widow leans towards the naga, caressing her belly, "don't you think?"<br/><br/>“Yes,” Euanthane murmured, capturing her hand and pressing it there. “He does not fear to become food. Those used only to fearful eyes – like your predatory pet – find adoration in his gaze, and that strangely attractive. He is not bespelled – he follows me gladly, knowing he will spare some unwilling other from becoming my meal, should the urge overwhelm me.” I paused, and my body burned like fire beneath Xarces's touch as he brushed me, whispered 'distract her', in my ear.<br/><br/>“I cannot replace him, if your pet devours him,” I told her, and I did not need to fake the genuine affection in my eyes, nor the acceptance of his probable, eventual fate in<span style="font-style: italic">someone's</span>stomach. “Were she to do so, and the hunger overtook me...” I let the words hung unspoken. “Either yourself, or some other, more<span style="font-style: italic">capacious</span>meal,” I said, letting my eyes flicker to the plump redhead, “would fill my belly, if I lose control of myself.” I gripped her hand rather more firmly. “You are making it very hard to keep control of myself,” I whispered, far to low for the serving girl to hear.  “I do not feel only the hunger for sex, when I look upon a beautiful body presented so, and the slaking of one need only emphasises the depth of the other.