Gushing Adoration

"Huh, who're..." the knight starts, but then you take the loop from your eye and he stops in shock.

"Pinkamina Palmer?! Do I truly stand in the presence of the Great Dragon Hunter of Delmarthias?!" He gushes like a young school girl approached by one of the arch-mages of the kingdom.

You wince. You knew it was getting to be time to retire this persona but this has just confirmed that not only is it time, it's PAST time. However, you can use this to your advantage this one last time...

"I am she, always nice to meet an admirer. May I ask your name good sir?" You lie smoothly.

"Lord Brimley Michael Conrad VonHensurling of Dash-Hold, at your service!" The young fool declares with reverential awe. "But please, call me Conrad," he finishes shyly.

As he has introduced himself Conrad has removed his helm and you now see that he is a handsome enough fellow, for a human. His hair is a lustrous brown, much like the bark of a stout oak, and falls to his shoulder in curly tresses: his rosy pink lips look soft and imminently kissable: his skin is neither fair nor dark, but the healthy sandy paleness that marks someone native to these climes who avoids sun where possible, yet is not afraid of it. However it is the wine dark eyes which pierce you to the heart. Those eyes hold a promise of something beautiful and sacred if you can win your way down into their deapths; there is more there than admiration for a renowned heroine from tales told by the campfire, he is blinded by hero-worship for the moment, but some instinctive reaction has recognized you are more than you appear. For the moment this deep instinctive core is willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, and has not alerted his conscious mind, but you sense it's patience is exceedingly finite...

Your instinctive reaction has recognized something in him as well, something elusive yet blessed. You don't know much about humans, they have been an obstacle to overcome in your previous experience, but this one is different. You are attracted to the foolish knight, function-follows-form after all: you wear human flesh and that flesh finds his own attracting, but this is not the root of it. Something in you, just bellow your conscious grasp, is alternatively screaming to kill him in terror at whatever instinctive core you have touched deep in his eyes and yearning to bathe itself in those all consuming flames... To What end you do not know: you sense that unlike mundane fire THESE fires would bring you great pain needing a very long healing process, but you yearn to let them burn you to the core anyway...