What an amazing body body to work with. The Mycologist catches the Professor on his forearm a few centimetres above the floor. It is a move feline in its nature - quick, efficient, yet aimed to dazzle anyone looking. He pulls them back up in one fluid motion, betraying that under the soft fabric are trained muscles... and a considerable knowledge of physics.

They are so close to each other now. The Mycologist hasn't stopped smiling since the dance began, but now he has to make a pause to wet his lips. His tongue stretches perhaps a little too far.
"How fortunate for them that death avoids humans in the Neath, then," he murmurs, and there it is a gain, the little pleased purr in his voice. This close, chest to chest, it can be felt reverberating under his ribs.

He then offers, in this momentarily pause: "Drinks?"