He returned that provocative grin with a playful smirk of his own, though there was only a casual, appropriate level of intensity behind it... nothing predatory, nothing deceptive or scheming. It was simply an automatic response—for it was natural to mimic the gestures of those one found particularly attractive or interesting—but that made it no less sincere. Similarly, she echoed his speech patterns, with her soft, whimsical tones complimenting his purring baritone in the still evening air. His tail swept broadly behind him; this girl was good at pushing his buttons. His smile grew in response to her rhetorical question; surely she knew how impressive she was already.
His gaze followed the movement of the discarded cig as it arced through the air, then rose again as she waved a fresh replacement in front of his nose. His muzzle trailed along with it as she moved it in front of his face, all while his nostrils fervently flared and wriggled. He licked his lips quickly as she pulled it away; it was obvious the teen was interested. And yet—“Come now, what would I want with a weed,” he said, waving one hand dismissively, “when it's overshadowed by such a vibrant flower?” A light laugh. “And Barry's fine,” he said, offering to take her hand in a delicate shake; such formalities seemed inappropriate. “But I will say, it does seem deliciously... potent.” He referred, of course, to the marijuana. Right?
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