No, not yet...

You rub the back of your head. "Um, I'm just a Foxfolk... I just have... birth defects," you mumble.

"Hm. You're a bad liar. That's good. But I will not **** you to tell me if you do not want to."

Your tail wags again. "Um, so... where are you heading?"

"I am on a quest from the Capital. I stopped here for supplies and directions," Graham explains.

Your ear flicks. "So when you said you get lost a lot..."

The adventurer coughs into his gauntlet, causing you to giggle. "Will I be heading there with you?"

"You are mine now. You will be by my side and I will protect you. I only ask that you contribute how you can," he explains.

You smile, feeling heat in your chest well up. You scooch further into his lap, resting your head against his armored chest, signing contentedly.

"You are quick to relax in my arms... Are you not afraid of all the ne'er-do-wells here in this bandit town?" Graham asks.

"No. After all..." You grin up at him. "My Master is scarier than they are."

Again, his helmet and warrior's control over his body movements gives him the perfect poker face. "I am not your master. Call me Graham."

"But I want to call you Master!" you whine.

"Why would you want to call me Master?" he asks, sounding increasingly exasperated.

"It's more fun!" you chirp.

Graham sighs. "Fine. If it makes you happy, you may call me Master."

"Yay!" you cry.

"Here's your meal!" the waitress says, dropped the beef stew-filled breadbowl and tankard of milk on the table. You can't help but salivate at the sight of it. Sleezenose didn't exactly feed you more than scraps.

"Do you have the strength to eat, or shall I feed you?" Graham asks.