Overture Downs not my friend but i wont say no

ulfric does not move. does not shift, does not bristle. only watches.
her words slide through the quiet, cutting like ice. a cold truth, sharp as steel. his ear flicks, a breath slipping from his nose, but he does not answer.
not at first.
she steps closer. not near, but enough. enough to feel the space between them grow thin, humming with something. something. her voice dips, low, edged with something like challenge. are you comfortable, beast?
his head tilts, just slightly. blue eyes, sharp, searching. his tail sways once—slow. sultry.
"comfortable?" the word leaves him with a dry scoff, low in his throat. "no. never."
his gaze does not waver. and it is a heavy gaze, testing, appraising. watching her with an underlying hint of... what is that? desire?
"but you already know that."