[It presses in a little closer as the oil begins to pump slowly in (not all at once but in a steady rhythm of pulses that stretch the knot in the tendril when they pass through), nuzzles at his cheek.]

Mmh...you aren't truly Tsukumo Yuuma's friend, are you, little Barian?

[Now is the best time to ask, now when his mind is pliant and open and giving.

Its hand strokes slowly over his chest.]