The girl kept calling him sir, and despite wanting it, he wasn't sure he liked it. It was a dutiful sort of formality that would've sounded better if he were the Boss. But he wasn't. Sure, he was a Confidant, the King's chosen, trusted and loyal. Still, it was too much. Her meekness had caught him off guard, and he backed off half a step, trying to get a better look at her.
Denver's pale eyes appraised the slave, whose appearance, he thought, was did not befit a slave. He wondered where she'd come from. Who found you? he asked, prying. The goings-on of his home were always his business, and the appearance of this new slave had him interested. At least she can speak, he thought, and at least I can understand her. 'M Denver, he offered, crossing his arms as he watched her, wondering. Does Sirius know you're out? The pale mutt glanced to and fro, cautious of company. I ain't helpin' you escape or nothin', he added quickly, not wishing to endanger his or Maggie's place in the pack.
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