Drakmir watches as she is branded and the fact that she is the one who makes the sigil is somewha5 interesting to say the least. Still he does not flinch or look away when his sigil is burned into her. If anything he had a look of anger. His father being a slave himself taught him a great many things about the horrors of what she was going through. His mother was a noble warrior among his people, a berzerker while his father was a metal worker. How the two met he did not know. What he djd know was his father left him the knowledge of the totems and his mother left him the knowledge of how to fight and survive. Useful traits that defined him as a warrior in this world.<br/><br/>Upon resolution of the branding he would take her and lead her back to the inn from before to rent a room. He knew he might have trouble with the sigil so odds are the drider from before might know. He made sure to pay for the room for a few days out just in case as well as meals and drinks for when they needed them. He paid two gold to cover all expenses as well as to make it clear he did not want to have it be known they were staying there. Once in his room he began to study and decipher her Mark. (13+1) Finding no answers he sighed and leaned back. This was going to be harder than he thought before drinking his goblet of ale down. "So slave what is your name? What did they call you before?" He asked looking to her knowing he would wait till tomorrow to try again.