Early the next morning, Ilan began to make his move.
Bare-chested, he wore a flamboyant, high-slit animal-skin skirt studded with gemstones. With every step, the slit shifted enough to expose half his backside—an ostentatious display he clearly believed to be charming.
Just as Nina stepped out of the cave, he approached her, holding a small white wildflower. His expression was thick with affected charm.
"Little female," he said, voice syrupy, "I went into the mountains at dawn to find this flower for you. Other males only give those gaudy, vulgar blooms—but I believe this pure white suits your elegance and purity."
In truth, he had plucked it casually on his way over.
But to him, females were simple—say a few sweet words, and they'd lose their bearings. Who would care where the flower came from?
As he spoke, he subtly widened the slit of his skirt, deliberately showing off his long—if somewhat underwhelming—frame.
