On impulse, Ruen bolted forward, holding his dagger in a reverse grip; he struck like a serpent, his blade curling towards his neck that tipped towards his shoulder, back to the jugular, missing short of drawing blood. He smiled, seeing the target of his lust dodge.
Altair was arguably the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He was tall, his gaze sharp, his brows sharper, plumped lips and pale skin that was sure to blemish at the slightest touch. He had to have him, if only once.
"Has anyone ever told you you've got the eyes of a wolf," he said, dagger swirling into semi-arcs, spewing a fountain of sparks into the air with each bind of their blades. "Cold with calculation, even in desperation." he licked his lips, managing to slip past Altair's near impenetrable defense, and nicked just above his shoulder blade. It would have been deeper if not for his surecoat and Almighty Resistance.
"What's wrong? Open those sweet lips of yours. Sweetmouth, flank him."
