There was a sort of drunken grace to the way his form twisted around and his head wove so that his eyes could follow the sway of her hips as she walked. His lust for her was thicker in the air than the steam from the baths. Still, something in his eye said that his overactive, detectives' brain still lurked behind his alcohol infused eyes.<br/><br/>In fact, it was only that his head wove in more or less a copy of her sway that indicated he was following it. The nature of his eyes, lackinf a discernavle iris, made it hard to read his eyes except they flicked constantly. His body followed his head with only a small hitch as he face toward her again. His large cock bobbed halfhard between his legs and seemed to be seeking her like a bloodhound.<br/><br/>"Bold? Is that all? When you have the space of an elfen childhood to live the entirety of your life, what elfs call bold is just the minimum necessary attitude to make something of yourself."<br/><br/>He took a few heavy steps closer to her and got bold as hell. He leaned in close, his breath honey sweet, and put a hand to hovering over the swell of her hip a second before he got bold enough to touch her as he whispered, "But, me? I'm only half a human and I've been around. Prolly not as long as you, but long enough to know how to get what I want. And definitely long enough to know how to make you shudder like a maiden on her first night."<br/><br/>Suddenly, he drew back, blinked at her, grinned mischeviously, then moved to refill his glass. He had just enough control to add, "You can have as much "boldness" as you like. Just ask." He also had the audacity to laugh even as he matched her in downing half a glass.