[ ignoring the way his skin initially prickles into gooseflesh when rex gives him that too-familiar once-over, set does his best to spread his arms and press on the crystal alongside his hips - working to free his ankle from the confines of the stupid prison without giving away that he's, uh, a little trapped. it's not for mortal eyes to see anything less than precise grace, and were he still divinely crowned, he'd skewer this youth's on his sands for even remotely witnessing him in any state less than in perfect control.

all he can do right now is squirm, absolutely unbothered by his nudity. or the way he's viewed, because his body is a fucking gift to mortals, let them look all they please. worship him! ]

You rascal, [ he hisses, half-irritated and half-amused by rex's persistent heresy. ] You're being willful in your ignorance, don't mock your superiors.

[ he bares his teeth delightedly, viciously -- perfect and whole and with some rather prominent eyeteeth. boy's got some fangs on him. ]

I am the god of the desert, divine warlord of Egypt --! Come over here and I'll show you how many teeth I have!