Tzilan felt the warmth before anything else, before Saralegui drew close enough to attract the eye, before his lips parted to speak. The radiant, remnant warmth of the fire, slowly dissipating into the air. It was distracting enough that he turned to stare at the pale figure who approached.

He forgot to simulate the act of breathing. How could someone be so beautiful? On instinct, he wanted to draw his hand through that fine, pale hair, see if it was as soft as it looked---

He immediately cast his eyes aside, feigning polite disinterest.

"My companions were interested in quite an arrangement of festivities," he began, but the blonde slipped an arm around his shoulders.

"And this one will need some individual attention-- it's his first time," he laughed and nudged Tzilan in the pale man's direction. "Be particularly good to him, won't you?" He nudged Tzilan forward, turning towards the few others of his party as his name was called--

Tzilan blanched, went faintly wooden.