Once her hands are on his horns, she gives them an experimental stroke to feel just how smooth they are. The paint he's used has a gloss to it, like a lacquer glaze, but she finds her fingers traveling farther down into his hair.

The texture of it is rather surprising--there's a thick layer of coarse guard hair, but then incredibly soft fiber underneath. It's unlike human hair entirely, more like the hair of a densely-coated hound from the northern reaches of Faerghus.

She runs her fingers through his hair until she reaches the pointed tip of his ear, and that brings back a memory that's best left forgotten, so she makes a move instead of dwelling on it.

"How do you feel?" she asks. "Don't you want to touch me, too?"