Oh. Well - all right. Miles shouldn't be surprised, but this is the second time he's had a high Vor woman walk next to him like he's a person. Sonia he understands; she's part Betan. This woman is terribly familiar but he still can't quite place her. Except that she is Vor, of course, because there's absolutely no mistaking that posture. The easy assumption of power, that Miles will of course follow her as a matter of course.

He does follow her as a matter of course. Maintaining just enough distance that he's not actively, offensively smelly at her. And so that she can also have an exit if she changes her mind about this whole walking next to a mutie thing. "Er ... if you're referring to the stables, I actually quite enjoy that," he says a bit sheepishly. It's not even a lie. He loves horses, dammit, and he misses Fat Ninny terribly. It's also horribly filthy and exhausting. "One must earn one's keep, after all." Or die on the point of Piotr's disapproval.