His skeptical raised brow indicates that it was not in fact convincing whatsoever, he hardly needs the ability to read moods to know that much by now. He doesn't back up, doesn't feel the need to, but he notices the careful approach and it warms him a bit that she's taking into consideration his potential discomfort, even as she aims to discomfit him. It's an odd duality, but strangely it makes him trust her that much more. She knows the difference between limits and hard limits.

He shifts to lean an elbow against the counter, turning to face her and incidentally lowering himself closer to her height. He's almost lightheaded, something close to drunk on the flavor of her right now, but he's in no danger of anything worse than that, and neither is she. The thirst isn't rising. "Ain't been a soldier in many a year," he says thoughtfully. "Might've forgotten that little detail. I'm meant to be a man of peace now. Vegetarian and all."

He blinks slowly at her, body language at ease in a way it hasn't quite managed before when she's been this close. It's inviting, and if he still fed on humans, it might be too inviting, but he doesn't. He could never be this relaxed around other humans. It's just her.