Sawyer follows the direction of Ilithyia's wave, glancing from one man to the next. Most of them have very closely cropped hair, the sort that Sawyer knows would highlight his jawline a little more. It's not by coincidence that he's chosen the hair he has, something to make him a little more approachable. Also something to serve his innate laziness over things like upkeep.

Also, he has damn fine hair.

"So... can't you say that I'm a slave? Or at least pass me off as one until, who knows, until you find a knife or somethin' to hack my hair off. I ain't really too fond of the idea of fighting in the arena. Mostly 'cause I know I'd be horrible at it," admits Sawyer. "I can shoot with a gun, but my muscle ain't none too impressive compared to those ol' johnny boys over there."