Grier had caught sight of the pathetic, battered form whilst making one of his daily runs through the pens and interest had been sparked in just that moment of glancing. 'Pon all fours he'd stalked over there to sit the large and twisted form on the chair before her, both eyes turning to focus themselves on this possible new purchase. He'd wait to see if she'd actually notice his presence before doing much.
Pertelot gazed despondently in a heap of shattered thoughts of which she seemed to be the pivot from where they rotated. Earlier on in the day the Mau may have been spied crooning over the tawdry seats. Yet her urge to inquire so many things left her a hopeless wreck of broken limbs. Aristocratic qualities surrounded the svelte one, however she had been unable to speak since the occurrence of her being 'broken in,' as the canine called it. Pertelot's discomfort could not be wavered.
Grier's presence had not been acknowledged - neither physically or verbally. That was fine with the creature. Tails set in a coil at the base of his haunches while still peering within at this speciman; it did not take a fool to see she'd been beaten, especially quite recently. The state she was in didn't appeal much to him but perhaps it might be worth to keep her around in the end. Right lifts, fingers extending to scratch 'neath his beak. "Hm.. Your name."
Pertelot gingerly rose her chin, having been addressed. The creature was poorly mannered and bitter, after having experienced such atrocities, though another scuffle in which she would inevitably lose was unwanted. Glimmering pools of dark blue rested uneasily over the man's feet. Looking him in the face was out of the question, seeing how having one's skull grabbed and squeezed left neck muscles temporarily paralyzed. Her's anyway, "My name.." Pertelot paused, then corrected herself, first person speech was, from what she was told, prohibited, "..Pertelot."
Grier had almost been expecting this one to look at his face for even a slave beaten to near death would still rebel against those who put him or here there in the first place. In silence - supported by patience for the time being - he awaits the answer to his command. Paw still idly runs its curving talon tips 'long the extension of thick, coarse neck muscles; the mistake in speech noticed in the ear but nothing said. It would slide for now, though this one knows these slaves must not have too.
Grier much length to ride on."I see.. Pertelot. It seems you haven't been in your station for long."
"No sir," Pertelot replied quietly, so as not to speak in a higher tone than his own, "Girl.. has not," frowning lips feigned a straight line of indifference. Inside the Mau was screaming in retaliation. She rested her broken forearms in the center of her lap, trying desperiately not to make any large movements which would ultimately send jolts of pain through her being. Had it not been for that collar, she thought, things would be different."
Grier's maw pulls itself into a grin as he listens. It even brought the smallest chuckle that flows easily from his throat and chest, shaking the loose feathers of the strange coat mixture. One tail slaps at the tiled floor while its brethren simply rest as their master continues observation and conversation with her. "Try adding the word 'this' before your sentences.. It works wonders and denotes you have some level of intelligence." Wings shake at the shoulders then relax 'fore he continues, "Now, what sort of talents might you possess?"
Pertelot's eyes seemed to narrow slightly, while her head remained bowed, for the most part. She replied, diminishing her thoughts of slaves having to sound unintelligent. For this had been the rule of thumb, as far as she could remember. Usage pronouns would commence, "/This/ girl is currently unable to preform any physical tasks which require the use of hands or arms," emphasis was placed over the first word. Caustically the urge to expel sarcastic responses was denied. 'This girl possesses the ability to disobey, writhe, kick, scream, deny rank and spit at you,' being a few things she would have liked to have said."
Grier was not at all dumb - struck with the smart remarks she now wished to retaliate against him with. Overgrown appendage settles then 'pon top barring of the fence that separates slave from slaver. One eye turns away to look down the aisle then return to its spot 'pon her. "Well, let's assume for one moment that you do have the use of your arms and hands.. What could you do?" His tone almost as mocking as hers but only out of amusement.
Pertelot strained in a rather painful looking attempt to maintain some variety of eye contact with the slaver. Pertelot's glistening oculars fixed on his own, while she strove to lean forward, craning her little self nearer, "This girl was never once a slave before. In fact, this girl has never preformed manual labor in her life. THIS girl," the Mau paused allowing him to perhaps become further enthralled by her preciseness of who they were talking about. Frail digits bent on either hand to point upwards at her being in an obviously difficult manner, "... is worthless."
Grier decides at that moment to meet with her eyes as she seems so daring now. He could understand - she was almost dead anyhow and only needed someone else to finish the job so why not go out with a big bang? Head lowers thus so she may not have to strain so much in order to look into his eyes only to see her reflection staring back in the glossy surface. "Mm.. So you came from a high family. Tell me, did you get sick of the life or did an uncle take over your kingdom? It's always the same story.." Tongue flicks out in an almost irritated manner, slashing 'cross the ebony of his snout; deep snort of breath in her face as if disapproving of her. Neck retracts then twists to work out the kinks. "But I shall not give you what it is you wish, that end I'm sure you hope to find in me. It's more delighting to make you suffer in this life than the next."
Pertelot lowered her head, having been debased, though only momentarily, she was sure. The effort which was made to preform such simple things has finger bending had been ceased. Seemed the world had turned against her. And all she did was ask a slave if he was too unintelligent to manage himself. Buying her a world of pain. The once arrogant sylph closed her eyes, as if to blink out time and space. Fall into oblivion, if she was lucky enough. However, whence those thin membranes known as eyelids peeled up again, disappointed had struck her over the head once more, "This girl was of free blood. Her immediate family was of new money. Distant was old. This girl," Pertelot sighed at the tediousness, "This girl was set out to find new wealth. This girl's family will not support her for the rest of her life. However, this girl was brought up with new money, and by nature is rather headstrong and made angry when debased in such manners as being titled something as low as "slave."