That's Your Real Question, Right?

Th-thump…

Gerrart's knees buckled. He fell to his rear with arms bracing the floor behind his back. 

"You'll allow me to ask anything? … And you won't find it offensive?"

"Ha! The more offensive, the better the laugh!" With the sheer blunt force of Rizz's voice, He crushed the wolfkin's hesitance. "Now spit it out! You already backed out last night, so don't waste my time again. Rip off the bandaid and let your inner thoughts fly. 

"I'm gonna be your master but you won't be my slave. You'll be my apprentice. And any apprentice too cowardly to ask a simple question is too weak-willed to deserve my time." 

Suddenly, Gerrart's shaking stopped. He crossed his legs and sat up straight. Gerrart didn't know if it happened out of reflex against Rizz's frustrated tone or occurred after a slight change of heart. Either way, Gerrart felt both a fragment of familiarity and a hint of hope melt into his heart.