When at his lowest, Sawyer expects, if nothing else, the freedom to be invisible. He's starting to understand how that luxury doesn't exist here. How, even among slaves who'll never see freedom or be able to openly speak their mind, he'll have to be careful not to stick out among the others. Being invisible isn't a given, it's something that he'll have to work on.

That's new. And not a skill Sawyer's sure that he has. He tends to be fairly loud-mouthed, after all.

"I'll do my best," he promises, shaking his head slightly, the humor gone from his voice. It's time to take things a little more seriously. "I'm a chatty sonuvabitch, but I can hold my tongue. There anythin' I need to expect from Lucretia, or am I just gonna get cozy now with your slaves?"