As the proof began to massage his muscles the string holding his shoulders taught slackened and he relaxed, his frame opening up a bit more. His body took up more space now rather than being hunched over with closed elbows a stance that said 'don't bother asking for anything'
"I prefer to think of it as self interested, I'm more interested in my own tribe," he chuckled, "Besides," he began with humour still in his voice, "If they don't want to hear about how superior my tribe is to anyone else's they can fuck off back to their own,"
"I don't listen to anyone but myself," he scoffed jokingly. Lot wasn't a big talker by any means. "Mustangs a fine spokesperson," she was also a little unhinged but Lot found that strangely irresistible, like when you couldn't tear your eyes away from a car crash.
In a flash of madness Lot actually grinned his eyes glittering with tease, "This place is actually an old Native American burial ground, we're sitting on top of cursed bones as we speak,"