Talk to the crying girl

The lord stops and bends at the waist in front of her cage, a deep leathery voice booming from within broad chest. “Stop crying. I will not harm you.” The the small blonde girl next to her sniffles a sob and keeps quiet, eliciting a nod from him.

He slowly taps his way back to the entrance, stopping in front of the slaver, then simply stares at him. The rows of chins slowly wobble as the fat man uncomfortably shifts his weight from one foot to the other, sweat beading on his forehead. “Y-yes… M’lord?” The customer breathes out slowly. “Which do you.. Advise I buy, slaver?” He spat out the last word, making the fat man startle and wince. He gulps and looks down the room. "Well, M'lord..."