Tell Him You're good At Stress Relief.

You sidle up to the huge man, rubbing your hands against his lightly furred arm. Feeling up the monumental muscle present right underneath the skin. It's rock hard, and it's clear it's put to good use regularly. There's a certain air of excitement that fills you as you get close, one of being all too close to something that could destroy you in mere seconds.

When you touch him, his face moves to face yours, less than a few inches does his snout lie from your face. A rough puff of air from his nostrils blowing back your hair. His nostrils flaring. He seems miffed you haven't answered his question, even grunting to show it.

"I'm great at stress relief, big guy." Your face sultry and voice low as you say this, trying to seduce the dense bovine.

He stares at you, seemingly unimpressed with your advances. Head tilting. "Prove."