The orc's gaze lowered to that heaving bosom and bulging cleavage. The goggles he wore noisily indicated activity and the lenses could be seen extending. He swallowed. Hard. Apparently, the seeminglack of weight to Lucille's craft did not even phase the orc. The discomfort his choice in legwear presented intensified as any free space had been consumed. The package certainly matched the sender. His was clearly thicker and longer than the average human's, and even the well hung would have to question their position in the pecking order. He audibly cleared his throat as he quickly adjusted himself, more for comfort rather than bashfulness.<br/><br/>Taking a moment to admire her form -the curvature of her body and the way light bounced off the sand and made her skin glow- a throaty, appreciative growl vibrated through his throat. "Looking for ruins? Well, today just happens to be your lucky day." He removed the goggles, the lenses retreating and shutting closed. Freed from their confines, dark brown eyes began taking in the *big* picture. "It just so happens I run this airstrip and have access to the city's mainframe. I can get you the information you need from my *private* booth at the cantina." The word 'private' was dragged unnecessarily and accompanied by bouncing brows.