Perhaps it was strange, but Ea did not find Rook's scars unappealing. Now that he was looking at him with new eyes and fresh interest, he itched to touch. He knew the texture of burn scars. He knew the texture of them on his own skin. He could remember the texture from the time their hands touched but he wondered if it changed over the different parts of his body. He crossed his arms over his chest, lifting a brow as he let Rook think on his own question for a minute. After a good heartbeat of silence he stepped forward slowly.

He didn't reach out to touch him, head tilted curiously to the side. Instead one of his hands lifted to push a few stray strands of coppery hair out of his face. The magic had brought a sheen of sweat to his skin in a way that heat simply did not. Though he didn't feel tired yet, the itch of magic crawling just under his skin like sparks of electricity had died down, excised by just the execution of the fire falcons. He liked bird imagery- it was what he reached for first, out of habit. He had practiced over and over when he was younger, using the shapes of birds as an exercise in control. Fine control of fire had been the hardest thing to do. Starting fire was easy. Making it do what you wanted was... more complicated.

"Yes." The answer was clear and simple. He let his arms drop and extended one of his hands towards Rook, palm up. It was just shy of a come hither gesture. Since he'd had a taste of Rook's volatility, he figured he'd leave it to the elf to initiate. "You're the most interesting person I've met in a while."