The dwarf let her hand be crushed by the rude warsmith, and made a mental note to kill him first before he dragged her species through the mud any further. He'd been around humans for too long, she could tell. The exagerated accent, the swagger, the way he treated his apprentice, it was all too dwarfish. All she wanted to do was stick her finger in his mouth and make him say "You" properly. Not "Yeh", or "Yer", but something with a godsdammed Omnicron in it. Oscar. Dash dash dash. It's not nutritious, so stop swallowing it. Okay, maybe she was slightly biased, but nobody should just interrupt somebody like that. She'd been wrenched out of that pleasant little daze pretty much every dwarf went into while creating, even if all it was was tapping out a little beat on plywood, and suddenly having to talk, and seem interested in someone else's petty little life like she cared about any of it just didn't appeal right now. She stole a glance at Maximillion, and their eyes met for a moment. Unlucky little prick, to be shackled up to some short human and bundled into a slave pit smelling of sloth dung. Even the worms at the bottom of wine barrels could still spit on him. 

"Afternoon, Mister Griffith." She said, curtly. If he had a single shred of common sense in that thin skull of his, (A thick skull to a dwarf is a compliment.) he'd take the hint, and let the conversation trail off naturally, so she could get back to... whatever it was she was doing. Must've been something important, sure. Wouldn't have gotten so angry about nothing, now, would she? Of course not. That wouldn't be logical. But anyway, that was all she needed to say, for now. Maybe now, in the slightly awkward silence as he waited for her to say something, she could look at some of the other slaves, try and see who was worth setting up alliances with. Probably not the prinny kid, though. If you told him to jump, he'd probably ask the short human for how high he was meant to. The bunch of elves opposite... Probably not. Genocidal wars left scars that took a while to heal. The beastmen... Eh, if nothing else failed. That left the orc, who appeared to be trying to chat up one of the elves. Kinky. But still, far and away her best bet right now, if only he hadn't been put next to the elves. Seemed like nobody wanted to be next to the dwarf. Obvious, really, with the short bearded human peddling his minstrel show antics for everyone to see. If anything, she could still try to hide behind the beastlings during all-out combat.