Dean turned to allow the naked girl to ply her fingers to his hair. As she did, he swept his change down into his beard and mustache as well, feeling even more of that overwhelming power leaking out. Donovan must have been performing quite the bout of acrobatics below for his head to be clearing *this* fast. Maybe the drow was abusing his body enough for him to draw on his power?<br/>As the fey girl reached out and ran her fingers through his silken hair, Dean shrugged slightly – it was one of those distracting things, his flesh all fitted together *just so*, moving in a perfect harmony, as if tectonic plates were hiding just from view.<br/><br/>“I am a Shadow,” he said simply. “This body was a corpse, and they filled it with life from a Glory. They told me in the Citadel that we’re a little bit like Golems – our spirits a construct of magic and the remnants of what was left behind in the flesh. It lets us change our bodies and do things regular people can’t do.” He left off that he couldn’t actually change into a different body or type of being; the power was a manifestation of will and ego in Dean, not selflessness or altruism, as it was in Donovan. She didn’t need a lesson in his abilities.<br/><br/>“And you? What are you? Are you more fox or woman?” Tilting his eyes down to catch a glimpse of thigh, Donovan’s eyes seemed darker than they had a moment before, more appreciative of the slopes and valleys that Aza had on display.<br/>