"Listen to you. Innuendo and everything," she said, laughing. She clung just long enough to make a point before allowing her legs to slide down and put her weight on her own two feet again. He wasn't the first set of plate she'd had to crack. He wouldn't be the last. Warriors and their inability to stay alive without encasing themselves in over a hundred pounds of metal. Honestly.

She was quick to start with his buckles. They were past the point of need for seductive toying. They had been building toward this for years. The undressing was more or less a formality. She started with the pauldrons and spalders, and unlike her often careless image, she had enough sense not to toss it all to the floor. She set it aside with a modicum of care toward the fact that armor had to last him a good long time and do its job.

"This is why I could never be a Warden," she said. It was probably the least of why, but it was banter. She was never the stoic, silent type. "No opportunity for spontaneous fun. Now imagine if we were in the Deep Roads." She paused and smirked at him. "Better yet, don't."

She remembered the muck when they all went after Corypheus. Never had she been more glad of her tendency never to wear pants. "A double layered breastplate? Was your smith a sadist?" That was a little harder to find the secret to unfastening. When she had it, she made a small sound of triumph.