It's taken only one flash of naked skin to tell him that he isn't over her at all. In fact, he's never been more under her spell.

She stretches, unleashing dizzying amounts of gorgeous Isopia that his eyes can't help but snap to, and he wonders for a second if she's doing this on purpose. She might occasionally be oblivious to certain physical aspects of life, but surely she cannot fail to realise what she's doing to him. Her remark about it being freeing - coupled with those wings of hers dipping tantalisingly to her sides, as though pulling the curtains across in the aftermath of a decadent strip show - only helps to heighten his already considerable state of ardour, and he gives another snort of displeasure as he desperately tries to focus on anything but her.

She tilts her head oh-so-coquettishly, sending luxurious curves of mane down her neck. It has the desired effect - he just cannot tear his attention away from the way the dark strands nestle across every contour of her shoulders, or the way her movement exposes the delicate skin of her neck that is just ripe for salacious nips and tantalising nuzzles....Oh, bugger. He's caught like a fly in her web, and there's nothing he can do about it. Her behaviour, though, does strike him as kind of odd - her effect on him seems intentional, rather than an inadvertant side-effect of movements she would have made anyway. Beginning to cotton on, the beast raises a scarred eyebrow. "Kis hollo, O great Mountain....are you flirting?" There's amusement in his voice, but a deep layer of hope, too, and just that tiny uncontrollable frisson of lust. Try as he might to not get his hopes up, he simply cannot help it. He tells himself that he's reading too much into it, that it's just his innate masculinity and uncontrollable sex drive confusing his common sense, but it all seems to fit.

If she is flirting, then he's only too happy to reciprocate, even though the fear of rejection is enough to make him want to run away and hide with his tail between his legs. He'll play her at her own game; he takes just one step closer to try and bring their heated skin within inches of each other. Snatching at his magic, he erects a small plateau of earth beneath his feet, just enough to lift him up and negate the difference in their heights so he can look her in the eye (and demonstrate his mastery over the element associated with her esteemed father). He flexes each hard muscle pointedly, displaying the raw strength embroiled in every inch of his bulky body, and flashes her his most suave, womanising, panty-combusting grin.