What did you say?

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Hyomin's voice was almost sickly sweet and slightly venomous -- like snowberry jam spiked with a dash of Black-Briar reserve. "You had something to say about my outfit, yes?"

Bjorn's heart fluttered in fear....and something else. He had no doubt the lass could blow his brains out the back of his skull without a thought. She and her unholy Dwemer weapon had already painted the walls of this bandit den with buckets of gore and blood. And yet, somewhere deep in his heart -- or maybe his loins -- he wondered if she was, perhaps, being playful in her own odd manner.

"I was just sayin'," Bjorn began with a nervous smile, both hands up in the air," -those garments flatter your figure, is all. Has anyone ever told you that you have the arse of a-"

*BOOM*

'Huh, I guess she wasn't flirting with me...." Bjorn thought just before his brain severed from his body and splattered against the wall behind him.