“Human,” he said at last. “And no, I’m not from around here.” He looked over at his rescuer. “You’re a… griffon, aren’t you?” the human asked. He listened to how the griffon spoke and decided to try to keep his colloquialisms to a minimum. If there was one thing his job nailed into him, it was completely removing any shred of personality from your voice so that you didn’t accidentally offend somebody by being the slightest bit incomprehensible. Or so the logic went.