"Kelcis," he offered in turn, his voice making the name sharp and sibilant in turn. When Lazerette raised the cloth from her remaining cuts, he paused in his circling to eye the small cut and nod sharply in acknowledgement. "As I understand it, there is a distinction between a female removing her own clothing and removing that same clothing oneself?" He tilted his head slightly along with the question. "Your language, your kind, makes many distinctions that we do not. Guests and prisoners." He snorted dismissively, but then leaned down to inspect the wound anyway, running a soft-tipped finger along the skin, taking care not to pierce her skin with his claws.