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

His ears fly backward, embarrassment warming his cheeks. Okay so she had caught him looking - well staring actually. Clearing his throat, his face scrunches up for a moment as he thinks of what to say. He could ignore the comments, move on to a different topic, but perhaps that would make it worse? Honesty was the best policy, no? "Ain't even window shoppin'," he replies back smartly, a grumble in his chest as he realizes too that she isn't going to go in for his offer of support though her pain is clear.

Instead, Wilder finishes the last inch or so between them and presses his side to her shoulder, eyes looking down at her like 'this is what I mean, dummy.' Once Vesper is supported enough that she could walk a tad more comfortably with him, he continues on. "I wasn' raised by no one. My parents abandoned me by the time I was six months," his lips weave into a frown, a sigh extending from his mouth. "So I ain't like these Armadans either. I'm... wild? Feral? Unsocialized? I ain't got the right word for it, but basically, I was starin' cause I ain't got manners an' yer tore up like a fuckin' chew toy," he takes a few steps, a brow raised, begging her to contest what he's had to say. If she was sharing her past, he might as well share his, right?

"I bet ya couldn't even get me close to grey," Wilder teases, hoping to shift the dour mood into something a tad more playful.

WILDER