The tanktopped hunter flashes his canines in a visible amusement on his stoic face. Hands coming to rest on the wall by the warlock’s waist. However, he didn’t bring his face in like some tactless seducer would. The rubies of his optics staring into the ice-blues.
He was an average-sized guy, sure he looked like a taut-muscled cat. Lean but packed in the right places and subtle curves. One boot standing on its toes and the other keeping his posture.
“I am fine,” He answered back with the dreg of old spaniard accent rolled to his crisp voice. “And yes, I am very serious.”
“With these gold claws, those teeth…” A claw lifted and tapped at the tablet, the Hunter didn’t need to break eye contact. He surveyed good enough from his walk in. “Maybe tongue and your scroll.”
Then he squinted, studying the Warlock.
Hoo, okay, he was just flirting. Still, that threat lingered in the air, and it made him incredibly wary. Dangerous way to hit on someone, the stranger should be thankful he wasn’t a short-witted titan of sorts, otherwise he might’ve had the will and the way to knock it to him
With a tap on his proverbial shield, blue optics flashed between his studies and the stranger keeping him cornered.
“I-yes, I am, what gives it away? Certainly the fact I’m a warlock is obvious by the tunic, but… Unless you’re touched by the void yourself, how would you know?” Raising the datapad, he covered his mouth, leering over the lip of the metal tablet.
Hunters, so impulsive, so brash. He didn’t hate them, not the way the stereotype went, but he could certainly reason with finding them annoying. Though, annoying didn’t quite fit the man that kept him pinned, rather…
He was purely off putting, as though something were off about him, driving Elwood’s instincts to throw up red flags and dance as though they were on fire.
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