Valon hissed as them bumped into the Bram’s ship’s loading bay, sensitive anatomy not well padded. Once they had landed the taller man took in the other members of Bram’s cure sizing each of them up. Live as a slave had taught him to never trust the weak looking or those smaller than himself. He could tell that despite her appearance the first mate was strong, agile.

He watched the rest of the group looking over their bounty. The half-kitirigan looked over the others claim the soils of he raid. Valon could only see the men and women, slaves, who had died for such riches. His thoughts were intereuped by Bram’ rich tones.

“Where?” The whole incident felt so very familiar. It felt like their last night together on the observation deck. He followed the other man silently as they made their way into the ship.

(I g2g, bedtime)