Uwaa, please forgive my slowness this month, and any typos in this reply since it's really late at night (and your writing is better than mine, btw!)
"Oui, the south is wonderfully comfortable," he drawled, a lazy smile playing on his noble muzzle. This northern wilderness, the land of unpleasantly cold wind and unpredictable ice, would surely be the death of him. No creature in their right mind would venture out in such inhospitable climates. He was pleased that Finn played along whether she believed him or not; something in her tone made him happily suspect that there were double-entendres somewhere in her brogue. He did enjoy this game. No matter what happened when their fiery, battered bodies touched, he would win -- the clash of a fight, or the heat of a more intimate encounter, he grew exhilarated by the notion of either.
He matched her mischievous grin fang-for-fang, sinking into his own tense crouch. His fringed ears flicked forward, fully focused on his friendly opponent. "My pleasure," he repeated, flexing his fingers slowly and deliberately. After a charged moment of staring her down -- those eyes, so pale and transfixing! -- the tall Optime made his move, lunging forward in a rustle of the grass with a quick jab of his arm, a darting punch intended to scuff her shoulder as a test. He could strike hard enough to numb the entire arm if the situation called for it; but he needed to see what she was made of before he attempted to paralyze his shiny new packmate. Perhaps he would pull his punches, just a little. Wouldn't want to spoil her appetite.
The bandying of words had been amusing, despite the slight language barrier between their conflicting accents -- but it was the physical world that he relished best, the power of touch to influence them both. Perhaps he wanted to touch Finn for more than just the length of a tussle in the pasture... Perhaps he would find out what he really wanted to learn from her, not simply whether she could fight.