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Manuel trotted after the man. Had he had breakfast? He didn't think so. He had picked a few roots the night before that he /thought/ were edible, and had eaten part of one. Did that count for breakfast? Well, it didn't really matter what the real answer was. What mattered was that he tell the man what he probably wanted to hear. "Yeah, I've had breakfast," he said, once again polite. He tried to cover what the half-lie with extra politeness, but wasn't sure if that would make the man suspicious.

As they arrived at the hostel, Manuel wondered how many he would be guiding today, and how to do it. He was still a little worried about calling each place a Sharptooth (he had named each kind of made up creature by some feature they had). They would probably wonder what a Sharptooth was, and then Manuel would have to either explain that he had misspoken and meant to say whatever building it was or that it was a little fuzzy mammal that had claws that could retract and really sharp teeth and a really rough tongue. He had seen creatures like his that. Some travelers had them. He had never learned their proper names, though, so he had deemed the dainty little creatures Sharptooths.

Rocking back and forth on his heels, Manuel formed his next question. He had to be careful with what he said around people. After all, he was just a rented slave. "Do you want me to wait outside?" he asked. Did that sound like he wanted to run away? Well, he couldn't find a better way to phrase his question of where he should go, so he had to stick with that.

Manuel was startled when 'Jerome' extended his hand. He was meeting rather odd people. Rather, he was reading more into it than there really was to read. In his mind, this person had turned from a scowling, taciturn old man to a kind stranger. How did he do that? Why did he do that? Gingerly, he put his own hand in Jerome's. Should he? Should he not? "Charmed... Manuel," he said quietly. Charmed? What was he thinking? Actually, he hadn't a clue as to what would be polite to say at this moment. "Um, sure...?" His tone went up at the end of the statement, saying more as a question than the intended statement.

Taking a step forward, Manuel mentally kicked himself for his words. He really wasn't being very smart at the moment. Not. One. Bit. What in the world had he done? That is, besides more make the person that he would be guiding throughout the city think that he was a total freak.

Manuel watched Jerome take the position of a kitchen slave. What was he doing? Well, that didn't matter all too much. He could do what he liked... The thing that really startled Manuel, though, was the familiar voice of the soldier form the day before. Looking in the direction of the man, he hid his surprise and offered a small smile. "Y-yes, I do live in the city," he said uncertainly.

Manuel decided that he much preferred waiting on a mistress or doing some job that involve being by himself for the most part. That way, he could let his mind wander and not have to talk to anyone. He wouldn't have to make an awkward fool out of himself when he spoke to people that he wasn't even sure how much of a better they were. With mistresses, it was easy. You simply follow their directions quietly and without fuss. The past days, though, he had found himself in this position more and more. He was spoken to as almost, almost a peer, but not quite, and wasn't sure how to respond. How did he talk to people of this status? He didn't know, so he didn't talk much, as he might have around other slaves that he knew worked the same kind of jobs as he did.

Manuel glanced around the room at the rest of the men as she finished their breakfast. He felt particularly small in this room. Not only physically, but mentally, too. These people probably knew much more than he did, as they had probably traveled in many different places. He had never seen them around here, that was for sure. What was the soldier's name? Oh right, he hadn't asked. Now would probably not be the best time. Casting his eyes to the door, he shuffled his feet. He was uncomfortable in this room. He wanted to be in a place where he knew how others viewed him, and where he knew exactly what he should do.