[ Trying to hide one's fangs from a dragon was a self-defeating plan, doomed to failure. There's no way for her to know it, of course, but he has to keep himself from sneering. Really, Samus? Not that he wouldn't relish the idea of sinking his teeth into her, at some point, but with such a suspicious light cast on him right now...

Prestor shifts, makes sure said robes hug his false body just tightly enough to show that yes, he is indeed trim beneath all that luxurious fabric and there is ample reason he attracts so much female attention, but otherwise does not move. ]

You play a mean hand, Miss Aran, that much I will concede.

[ He gestures to her gun with the glass in hand. ]

But I don't make a habit of baring myself in so vulnerable a fashion if my companion has other intentions in mind. [ Bluntly: ] Why did you come here, really? Was it truly out of personal interest? Or just another form of interrogation you employ in your line of work?