is this a better size difference?

Wilder tenses, attempting to relax, but with each calculated movement of Oleander, he couldn't help it. He expected searing pain to slice through him, but when it didn't come, he would relax, a breath escaping him before he tensed once more. Why did this feel like agony in his head? At least when Oleander was talking, he could focus on something other than whatever Oleander was doing to his stitches.

His eyes widen slightly, not quite believing the story he was being told. Born a slave, runs away, gets attacked by a polar bear, and is saved by... Oleander? Hm, interesting. He had no reason not to believe the boy. Looking to Vesper when she doesn't argue the words spoken, it only leads to Wilder having more questions. Even if she was playing the fool, Wilder wanted to know more and he couldn't explain why.

"So ya'll Armadas keep slaves too? Why'd ya wanna give her back if she's in such sore shape?" A brow raises, a question hanging heavy in the air. Are you guys just as bad as the ones she ran from? "Ignita? I don't think I met her yet. How she get outta bein' a slave?" Wilder asks, wanting to know more even if Vesper didn't. Maybe she enjoyed being a slave.

WILDER