I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S RIGHT - open; slave

[Sven]

[align=center][div style="0px; width:450px; height:auto; text-align: justify; font-size: 8pt; line-height:13px; color:black;"]His gaze follows the endless looking rolling sands around them and on sight of them comes injecting into his mind the properties for it, how desert sands can be used to harden one's constitution or poison the eyes of an enemy. He's not sure if he cares enough to bother past any of these sort of compulsion and they mildly disgust him for their witchcraft nature, but anyone would be none the wiser of these quiet thoughts as he shifts his gaze to Quill. This man reminds him of a bear and his head tilts down to view what he perceives as armor on the creature's front legs. His attention goes to observing Quill's expression then and he doesn't make any guesses to what it could mean outside of a possible mode of sympathy. Digging too deep does not seem fruitful to him, yet then again not much of anything seems that way for the canine except when the other male leaves only to return with what he asked. He blinks, something like an expression actually dawning on his face before he grabs up the rabbit. He shakes it savagely before crunching down on the corpse with a great need. He puts his paw on the bottom legs and pulls up, ripping it in half before both parts are gone in a flurry of bone snaps and huffing. He licks his lips then- not to clean his mouth, but to get every single drop left that he can as he wags his tail lightly in response. The Pitt. It seems an apt name for this dustbowl.

His head turns then as he calms down from his feast and within seconds he is giving a thousand yard stare to nothing in the distance before her perks up again on hearing his name. “Sven,” he confirms, hastily, as if they're interrupting something before he turns his head back toward the previous direction. Whatever he was looking at seems to be gone now however so he returns his partial attention back between the pair. “You give me away?” Sven asks Valkyr on his words to Quill, with no implication behind his own words spoken in that same, plain, German sounding voice. This question is more like sighing than a grunt though. It's like asking about the weather or some other small talk out of politeness rather than care. There is a hint of confusion, but only because he doesn't understand yet why the sha would take him if he does not want him. Impulse buy? Surely he would want something back for it since that's how trades work after all. Maybe he is trying to impress someone then? Suddenly Sven just lies down on the spot, putting his head onto his paws and wrapping his tail up around his body. It seems that rather or not Valkyr answered the question or not ultimately doesn't matter. He wants to sleep, they can continue their conversation without him.

Only on Benny beginning to speak does he open his eyes again rather than when he first hears him approach. A lack of any sort of reaction graces his features, though it could also be because he doesn't catch half of what the fox says. His grasp of English isn't the best so such bombastic talk is mostly lost on him but he understands certain parts. The most important parts to him: warlord, fed, good. For the language gap he doesn't really consider explaining as it just means 'one' or 'first' and he didn't expect anyone outside his tribe to know the dead Gothic language anyway. As Benny looks him in the eye then, he looks back eye to eye without fear but also without challenge. Slowly he rises up and shuffles over to Benny's side, noticeably absent of hesitation. He has no reason to reject so he just turns his head slightly to half-way look at Quill but also Valkyr since he can no long remember which is which. He didn't even ask Valkyr actually. “Thank you.” He expresses his gratitude to both a provider and his slaver with equal care. Flat, listless as any hedonistic gratification has faded and so he doesn't feel much of anything at present.