Hideaway Strath let's store the pint of blood to cash in

A swish of a tail, a contemplative expression, and finally those silvermoon eyes look back to him with a challenge in them. It has him smirking horribly — mischievously.

“Oh, okay. You like it rough then, dear.” He comes to the most crude conclusion comically. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He asks then with a positively devilish curling of his lips. 

Then he only get a hair serious. “But seriously darling, what would you like then?” He doesn’t beat around the bush. Rather he’s welcome to do whatever she’d like. “A spar, a hunt, a romantic walk through the forest. Anything you’d like I can deliver on.” He hums confidently.