"[color=fdc68a]Bah. Threats.[/color]" He tited his head up then fell back-first on the sandy floor. "[color=fdc68a]I only did it that one time, I was too preoccupied to know if someone was in the roo-- Whatever, these excuses matter little to anybody.[/color]"

	He raised his left arm up, his hand wide open. Rays of the sun peering through his hand, through the leaves way above it, hitting his ivory eyes directly. He puts his gloves on one by one and unfolds his sleeves, and soon he notices Ember staring at him, possibly analyzing his humonculous nature, and so he tilts his head to look at her and she averts her discrete gaze and speaks.

	"[color=fdc68a]... I won't,[/color]" he replies. Either a resignment of pride, or refrain from further argument, but that's that.

	"[color=fdc68a]I do want you to hit me with your conjured fire, though.[/color]" He pushes back up with his arms, his torso slanted and head tilted back facing her. "[color=fdc68a]Let me feel your actual power, not that of a mere showman who creates bubbles and fog in excess.[/color]"