Silver's brows raise, watching the other's ears turn pink. He's easy to read--Silver's talent at noticing the little things, the micro-expressions, the things that you can flip to your favour if the time comes. Benedict might as well be an entire beacon of knowledge with just a single ord and glance alone, regardless of how astute one must be.

"It's not a matter of what's common or not," he says after a while, brows furrowing. "It's a matter of being powerful enough to not care. Of course the odd fellow would object, but if you can do your job if you're on a crew, what does it matter? I knew a Boatswain that used to fuck the dairy goat." He frowns. "...Although the crew was rather upset about that."