She confirms her purity, and the stallion's eyes boggle slightly. Really, it shouldn't amaze him - why wouldn't she want to keep herself nice? - but it does. It's so odd to see somebody older than him who is still as virginal as the day they were born. It gives the leviathan all sorts of weird feels, because now she's like fresh, unploughed snow - he wants nothing more than to launch himself into it and make snow angels, desecrate it with his bulk and snatch away that precious untouched beauty. "Ros, Ros, Roooooos," he rumbles, his voice surprisingly serious in that special way that only drunk people can be, when they're utterly oblivious to their state and think that it is fully possible to impart important, life-changing information. "Yer missin' out, darlin'. It's th'best thing in th'world. It chills ya riiiiiight out, takes away all yer worries and pains." He actually lifts a hoof to wiggle disapprovingly towards her. "Ya need to get yerself a good seein' to, Ros. Ye'll feel so much better." What more wisdom could she possibly want?

She then grows sidetracked by the extension down under, and the behemoth grins inanely. There's something beautifully liberating about letting it all hang out, feeling the chilly air upon a place that usually lies hidden, a beast within its cage. To create the full effect, the goliath grunts and growls as he lumbers to his feet, shaking bits of dirt and dust from his coat and balancing on four slightly wobbly legs. Like the unfurling of a hose, nature completes its work and Volterra stands proudly to attention, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively towards her and quite clearly saying you likey? She seems entranced, and he's only too happy to give her her first proper biology lesson.

Then she poses, and the titan gives a guttural grunt of approval. It's only natural that he find such a pose attractive, especially in his current state - normally by this point he's on a promise, about to satisfy the beast that has broken free for this very purpose. "Boy?!" he gurgles, all faux-indignation and coquettishly cocked eyebrows. "I'm all man, honey." And just to prove it, he turns so that he's side-on to her, allowing her to witness him in all his unholstered glory. Off she saunters, and with another animalistic grunt the stallion follows. It's particularly hard to walk in his current state, and it's more of a (very sexy) waddle as he lumbers after her like a panting dog after its owner. Her final throwaway words are taken as a challenge, and Volterra unleashes a thunderous chortle. "Wanna bet?" He increases his pace, which is far from easy; he winces as everything waves around uncomfortably underneath him, like a plane trying to fly with its landing gear down.

Still, he hopes his abnormal gait will be enough to bring him behind her, at which point he attempts to plant a teasing nibble on the dock of her (rather small) tail. How hadn't he noticed that tail before? It's so tiny that it leaves little to the imagination, and his hungry gazes roves greedily to the treasure trove beneath. This isn't a good idea, says the sober little voice in his head, but it's quickly smothered. "Anatomy lessons are better as physicals," he says in his sultry purr, aiming to thump his massive chest against her rump if she hasn't already scooted off again.