There’s no second-guessing from Mr. Dickerson at Richard’s efficiency. He’s worked with all manner of man-eaters capable of professionalism in the field, when sufficiently motivated. And sufficiently self-controlled.

So long as he’s confident they’re on the same side, for the short term --

He is binding a wad of cloth in between the mage’s jaws when this latest question catches him flat-footed. A touch at his own side finds more rime than plate; his glove (crossbow splinters and all) comes away damp, but not thick with blood.

“I’ll survive,” he says, already back to cinching. “You should wipe your mouth.

"You look as though you've lost a pie-eating contest."