Neverwinter Forest skies and thrones and wings and poetry and things

Ira did not at first know why her appraisal of him caused a flush of pride, but as soon as he recognized the emotion, he almost laughed. It had been so long since someone had been around to stroke his Leo ego. He wasn't about to solicit daily compliments from his son, and his spirit had been languishing as a result. For the moment, he only smiled. It felt good to be acknowledged for who he was again.

As the girl sank into a bow, Ira drew his body upward, ears tall but pointed to the sides. His tail began swishing back and forth, indicating that the tension pulled into his body was superficial rather than offensive. It was the classic "oh, are we doing this?" salute to an initiation of play. He had only this moment and his instincts to guide him on whether or not a physical advance would result in altercation rather than the posited play, but he chose to err on the side of goodwill. She was young, her signalling did not seem insincere, and -- unless they were ambushed by wolves known to her, he certainly could stand his own if things were to go south.

So on that note, he dropped the front half of his body, returning the bow, grinning. "Well, it certainly wouldn't be very polite of me to turn down your request," he invited.