Ilde thinks, briefly, that in the future she should remember that biting him isn't conducive to conversations continuing for very long. Here and now, at least, there's not much else to say on that subject and she's disinclined to mind kissing him instead, sitting up and half-turning for an easier angle. Eventually, she'll do her own share of poking around, but that's later, and for now she's...also taking the opportunity to press her fingertips, curious, to the red marks where he was holy-maced.