you want me to walk her like she's your dog?

When she didn't lean in to support herself against his shoulder, his ears fall back. Was she stupid? Did she think he wanted something from her? Eyes narrow, studying her as they walk slowly over the crunching ice. Lass sure is stubborn. Wilder thinks to himself, unsurprised when she mentions that she was born to slavers. That much he already knew from what Oleander had told him.

The next bits were where his surprise came in. "So yer ma was a slave too or?" He questions, expression relaxing for a moment as his brain tries to understand what she was insinuating with her secretive words. "Didn't realize the Armada was fond of slaves," Wilder muses quietly, his nose wrinkling for a moment at the thought. What was the point of a slave? Maybe he'd need to ask Basilisk for that answer.

He nearly misses the spasm that jolts up from her paw, her face contorting in pain due to his plaguing thoughts. He almost commented about it, but she interjected too quickly. Snipping at him about how if he wanted a fuck, she could be his shiny toy. Stopping in his tracks, Wilder gives her quite literally a very bewildered look. Speechless, really, as he tries to register what she had actually just said to him.

"Listen, raised how ya were and even now, I get it, but I ain't lookin' for a shiny toy," he finally replies after a moment of pregnant pause. "I came from the wilds, I barely got manners to go off of, but slaves ain't what I'm about," Wilder says, his expression scrunching back up as he sends his paws back into motion. She could keep walking with him or go back. "I'm jus' an apprentice so I kinda gotta do what they tell me too," he adds on, his tone rather flippant as if to say he wasn't much better than her.

WILDER