"No?" asked Tirarian, doubtful this slave was telling the whole truth. "What was your last master like?" She noted his distaste at the word, or maybe at the memory
Tirarian sniffed, smelling salty air. There was no doubt a storm was coming soon. She would rather much prefer to be indoors at the time it hits rather than outside, by then she wouldn't get to meet this Lucien. She sighed, she hated storms ever since she was a babe