Silver-Scale nodded as one eye passes, he could understand the need to keep things like dragons secret. It was the feline's ignorance that annoyed him he knew the "marsh mouth" comment was a slurr, and was also incorrect, as he'd grown up in Skyrim and never even visited black marsh. His mother had left him a pouch of hist sap, and that was the only connection he'd ever even had to the province.<br/>Moreover their parents were friends, possablly lovers. So he should at least give the provincal cat the benifet of the doubt. He may have been raised in isolation.<br/><br/>He smiled pulling apart his face plate "if he's a marsh mouth..." he placed an armored hand on Khajiit's sholder "does that make me a frost scale?" he said letting a bit of his nordic accent slip through and patting the sholder. "I'm guessing we'll be stuck togeather for the trip, so I'll provide the mead" he walked past and began to talk with the bartender organizing a large purchase of black briar mead.<br/>Anyone who lived in riften long enough aquired a taste, and whatever her flaws, Maven's daughter was good at making it, and her disinterist in busness meant that the price dropped greatly.