S'ric found it rather amusing that Jaks seemed to like being touched, and yet insisted on moving away. It didn't bother him, really. More like a timid way of playing 'hard to get'. There was no real defiance in his actions. For a moment, S'ric thought he may lean back. If the elf was still cold, and by the way his skin was covered in goosebumps he obviously was, the werewolf was not above warming him up. Rather, he had every intention of doing so. When Jaks moved forward, so did S'ric. At least, at first.
Until Jaks actually crawled away, which gave S'ric a rather nice view of what Jaks would look like on his hands and knees, and a perfect chance to eye the ass that was now his. Without Jaks now directly in front of him, the werewolf opted to answer the two questions he'd been asked. "Day feels different than night," S'ric answered, remaining on his knees while he watched Jaks in a very possessive way. He'd only let the man pull away a couple more times, if that. S'ric was a hunter, as such, he didn't mind chasing some. But that... playfulness?... would eventually give way and he'd want something more.... substantial. "And I was touching you." That had been rather obvious.
S'ric stood when Jaks did, and whole heartedly approved of the elf wandering back to the furs. Until he fell. Which make a single brow quirk. He'd never seen someone so... clumsy. Not that it bothered S'ric. Jaks appeal wasn't that he could fight, at least not physically. The snappy way he'd been, before quickly complying to S'ric, that was the initial attraction. With the lack of clothes on Jaks body, S'ric was finding other things to like. Gender hardly ever mattered to the werewolf, rather, S'ric sought certain features that he found eye-catching. A slender body, narrow-ish eyes... But it all came down to the part where they'd have to do something to make him take an interest. S'ric rarely was the one to initiate the first contact between himself and whatever unfortunate soul that he met. As with his meeting with Jaks, where the elf had actually yelled at him, it usually involved someone doing or saying something that ultimately led to S'ric dragging them back here. Or somewhere a little more private. The cityfolk didn't always like it when he did things in private, and while he would if he saw fit, it was just easier not to stir them up so they wouldn't annoy him with guards and the like. You kill one guard, they bring more. And then it's just a whole, annoying ordeal where he's killing people until they quit sending them after him.
S'ric shrugged out of his coat, tossing the blue enchanted material on the table. His eyes didn't look away from the elf as he unbuttoned the dark shirt beneath, likewise putting that on the table with his coat. That left S'ric in only his pants and boots, his bare torso decorated in a plethora of small scars... and accented by much larger ones. The most prominent was a deep cut from the middle of his chest down to his belly button, where someone hand seriously tried to jut him open vertically. It was almost dead center, and near straight down.
Even though his skin was decorated, most of the scars didn't seem to affect the muscle growth beneath. S'ric was very toned, more so than any human had the right to be. Only where some of the deeper scars were did the muscle dip in some, as though tissue had been damaged as well. Only then did he bother to answer Jaks' last question. " Um... What are you going to do with me?" S'ric made his way toward Jaks, one slow step after another, and looked every bit the animal he was. Were-animals just had a grace about them that other mortals couldn't match. Not even an elf could move as predatorily, or with the same whole body, fluid grace. Ever one to give the truth, S'ric answered as he reached the furs, "Whatever I want."
He knelt then, before making his way slowly toward Jaks. Not that the man was really far away.
