Donovan was very much put off by her sudden... amorous attitude. To him, that spelled 'trap'. Not only that, but just a few minutes ago she was a -fox-. It made him wonder if she was a human who could turn into an animal, or an animal that could turn into human... or both? Shit, maybe -neither-, for all he knew. He slowly backed away from her, still wary why she had suddenly turned friendly on him. Her fingers roamed over the leather of his armor with a light touch, slipping beneath some of the slats until he could almost feel her fingers on his skin. The thin linen shirt he wore beneath the armor felt like it almost wasn't there, her fingers were so warm to the touch.<br/><br/>His brow furrowed. "Dean said that?" he asked, when she mentioned Dean saying Don was the 'nice one'. The sudden subject-change was also curious - the spoke oddly, and changed subjects as if her attention was... like a fox's perhaps? She continued to point out the differences she surmised between him and Dean, and he listened. She raised a hand, brushing his cheek, her voice almost mesmerizing in its tone. He didn't -sense- any magic at play, but he knew his senses weren't perfect, either.<br/><br/>Then her hands were working the buckles of his armor free, were words still caressing his ears. She was trying to 'sympathize' with him, and he knew it... but he still didn't know to what -gain-. She had went from angry at being a hostage, to insolent and spoiled, to... what? Hungry, horny teenager?<br/><br/>This was -certainly- more Dean's territory than Donovan's, he thought.<br/><br/>"Look, I don't know...," -click-... another buckle undone, a tie loosened. He could feel the shoulder-straps of his armor go slack... "...What you're on about, Foxy. But this...," -pop-, another buckle free, and the boiled-leather shoulder pauldrons reinforced with thin, fine chain mesh came free and slid down his back, falling to the floor with a satisfying -crunch-. His chest still bore the multi-slatted leather guard, as did his arms, but his shoulders and a good portion of his back were only protected by the worn linen shirt that he wore beneath... "...is really not necessary," he said, assuring her that she had no reason (that he knew of) to do this.<br/><br/>If her hope was to turn him against Dean, as her words might have suggested... well... that wasn't going to happen, even if he had the notion to do so. Dean -was- a part of him, as sure as anyone's soul was apart of their very being. Without the aid of the gems, he and Dean were bound together forever, inseparable...<br/><br/>..The stones. -That- was what she was after?....<br/><br/>He reached a hand downward, wrapping his palm and fingers around the small pouch that contained the stones firmly in his grasp.<br/><br/>"Or maybe you're just trying to be the tricky little fox, distracting me with...," he paused, looking down at the ample body that she seemed to almost be offering to him, "...If that's the extent of your plan, it's just not going to work...."<br/><br/>He thought to call to Dean for aid... He thought of Methuseld still contained in the hold, along with the unknown elf... He and Dean were outnumbered, and now they were split-up... this could have been part of the women's plan all along... a suspicious feeling in the back of his mind splintered and began to grow.<br/><br/>"If you're not tired, we should go rejoin the others... safety in numbers, afterall...," he said, doing his best to quell the rush of blood to body parts below the belt...