"Frankly, Shepard, I have a hard time taking my eyes off you." He'll let that sit for a second before adding: "Usually because you're doing something reckless... but..."

Yeah, he's looking. He's looking respectfully. But then curiously. He can't help it, reaching out to run a careful finger along her arm. The pad of it, minding the talon. It's fascinating. It's kind of attractive, in how unusual it is.

"This is a... red hair thing?" That's what ginger means, right? He's following. In theory.

Then a low, rusty laugh. "Sun likes me, snow hates me. It's a two-edged knife."