Neverwinter Forest said he was a sailing man

Women still intrigued him, even when they were not yet at their full power. It was interesting and, admittedly, uncomfortable to find himself in a position of power over her. It was not much, and she could remove herself from it at any time — but it was far more than had been allowed in the place that he'd been born. There was a part of him that wanted to press further; to see how different she was than his seaborn sisters.

The flare of her nostrils drew his gaze, but his eyes skated back to hers when she spoke. A quiet cluck of his tongue expressed commiseration — a girl out to be with other girls. Other women. He knew that this was true.

"So does mine," he told her when she'd finished speaking of her father. His voice was quieter, this time; she hadn't seemed to like his speaking voice, and it cost him nothing to modulate his tone. He was inclined to cater to her whims, even if he had whims of his own that pushed him to test her boundaries.

He did not specify which part of her father was echoed in his own.

The bounty hunter tipped his head back as if to look up at the trees, but when he turned his head to the side, it revealed a strange part in his fur. Ugly scars marred his skin; he'd grown since he'd been given them, and they were strangely distorted on his adult frame.

"My momma gave me these," he told her, holding position a moment longer to give her a good look. Then he tucked his chin once more to regard her, both ears cupped forward in attention. His eyes lingered on the splash of white on her face. He wondered what her father looked like. He wondered if memories of his own held any value, or if they were compromised by time and the strange haze of youth.

Despite his conditioning, a wild hair kept him from revealing his name. He said, "You can call me what you like. Kinusi." and — apparently — he was capable of sounding magnanimous, if he tried.