friends don’t rattle the bars of their cage

His browspots shot up at the mention of her being mostly not hurt, which implied a little hurt. There wasn't much he could do about it besides march back to the slavers and pitch a big bitch fit, but as much as he had once upon a time liked Darya he didn't think she was worth the possible "prison" time. And he shuddered to think of his family's reaction. The last thing he wanted was to be held for ransom and paraded under his uncle's nose.

"Hmmm," he rumbled, his eyes narrowing as he took in her lackluster attempt to convince him she was fine. But she'd been kind of nervous as a kid, hadn't she, so maybe he was reading too much into her reaction. Jupiter scrutinized her for a moment longer and then decided to let it go. If she wasn't going to be forthcoming with any maltreatment than who was he to harp about it? "Well, I'm glad you're alright. Some of them seemed kinda touchy feely, ya know?" He shrugged and then let go of that thread of conversation entirely.

Jupiter jerked his head in the direction he'd stashed the rest of his merchandise. "Anyway, onward, I wanna pick up the others and be on our way before dark." His voice dropped to a theatrical whisper and he leaned in a little, "I wouldn't put it past our hosts to double dip if you know what I mean."