Good she thinks, taking another kiss before she goes; she hopes he'll be watching. She knows how to move her body, much the same as he knows how to move his in a fight. Sometimes the best way to catch the eye of a musician, or even a writer drinking alone by himself at a bar, was through dancing, a skill she'd learned on the mountaintop and never let slip.
She beckons at the man who'd bought their first drinks and gets herself another, making her way with it onto the floor. Finds a group of girls to dance with while she drinks it, their bodies swaying or grinding as the music demands. It is fun, dancing with a group of really great girl dancers always is, although in this atmosphere the pageantry of it is never really stripped away. Her skin's glowing with sweat again, and after a couple of songs a group of young men break them up, penetrating their circle, as it were.
She slips away to abandon her glass on the nearest surface, and nearly spins into Tragos. "Do you dance, war boy?" she asks, needing to shout over the pulse of the music down here. He grins at her - oh, he's drunk - and she takes his hand and leads him toward the middle. He tries to say something to her, but the music's too loud, she just shakes her head, and pulls him close. He's not a bad dancer, though he's nothing like the girls, and his intensity is still there, even under everything he's had to drink.
Plus he looks at her like she saved his life and handed him a key to a world he's only beginning to comprehend, so there's that, too.
There's a lot of tight muscles under his shirt, though he's leaner than Ares, and she thinks (especially if he keeps looking at her like that) it'll be really good, when she does take him to bed. A little inexperienced, maybe, but devotion will take a man a long way. She won't do it tonight, she isn't sure when the right time will be, but it'll come.
When someone grabs her from behind, she's half expecting it to be Ares, despite what he said. It's not, though, just one of the guys who interrupted the girls before, and his got both his hands on her hips and his mouth against her neck.
She turns her head toward him: "You really don't want to do that," she tells him, an inch from his ear and loud enough to hear, but he's not the type to listen, and winks at her with the eye she suspects he's probably about to lose.
She's not wrong exactly - Tragos's fist hits him squarely in the nose and he goes down hard, but he pulls her down with him. She hits both the ground, and him, then gets an elbow into his ribs to make him let go. Tragos is there to pull her to her feet - he hauls her like she weighs nothing, there's a lot of strength in that comparative leanness - and then he's pulling his foot back to kick the man on the floor directly in the teeth.