[She grins at that. It's endearing that he plays along with such an idea. Rogue enjoys her teasing and general cheesiness, which includes very seriously honoring pinky swears. And terrible puns, but she'll get to those when the opportunities arise.

As for flying? She only drops folks that deserve it, or can survive it.]

Owen. [It's repeated thoughtfully, as though she's testing how it feels on her tongue, or maybe it helps her remember. But then she's momentarily distracted by how he not so subtly reacts to her slip of the eyes. Her eyebrows lift and she chuckles openly, shaking her head with her own struggling smirk.]

You're peacockin' darlin'. [It's not so much a warning as it's a challenge that she really shouldn't present as an option, but after everything that's happened she's feeling about reckless and selfish.

Since she got in the water to have a wash and clean her clothes, she turn and steps back out towards her pack. She moves slowly, letting her muscles ripple along her curves of her back and down through the curve of her hips and backside.]

That's the perk of flyin'...

[Wringing out her skivvies, she lays them out on a rock and snags the rest of her clothes, conveniently, covering up the naughtier patches of skin as she steps back over towards him.]

Ah ain't too worried 'bout mah feet. [Once back in deeper water, she works on washing the shirt and leggings beneath the surface, watching him with a playful intensity.] Where do you want to put yours?