"Oh?"

There's genuine interest in his tone, eyebrows going up. It wasn't entirely clear to him if the troll had been serious about, considering how fucking evasive and coy the motherfucker's been each time.

He jerks his head to the side so that the blade is now pointing straight down his throat if Summoner ever decides to plunge it straight into his mouth. Teeth gnaw at the steel blade, an annoying clacking sound following. His hand on the horn squeezes, thumb brushing roughly against the scalp, while the other hand now grasps the leg still resting near the wound. He attempts to pull the leg away, to draw his body closer, to grind his body against him.

Yeah, it's pretty much him taking that as a 'yes please do me now', but he's still wary. The fucker's still got a good grip on that knife, after all.