It seemed silence was a natural attribute after all as he said nothing to her when she caught up. He might have slowed his pace some to match her. There was that cigarette previously eluded to. It hung casually from thin, unsmiling lips, giving up a ghost of dancing smoke. It smelled awful to be honest. The cheap stuff. His silence carried on until they seemed to leave the grounds of the town they were in. It seemed this time, she was in some Asian country. It was always hard to tell where she was being taken when she was between auctions. The auctioneers and the keepers rarely shared that sort of information with their 'goods.'<br/><br/>He suddenly broke the silence at the end of his cigarette. He cast the butt off to the side in exactly the same fashion he had the key. "Whatever you do, don't tell anyone I spent money on you. They're already going to piss me off enough with their opinions on your being there. I don't really want to hear it about<i>'money matters' </i>and<i>'sinful purchases.'" </i>The mimicked phrases came out in lazily mocking tones. "Che. Fucking morons." He wasn't very clear about his living circumstances, but it was clear he didn't live alone and that that fact annoyed him. And wherever it was, it seemed a bit of a distance from the auction house. He clearly went a good ways to get to where she'd been.