[ Even if he's become a little more used to seeing people with feathers, fur, horns, or scales, it doesn't mean Pinocchio is at ease with a veritable wall of muscle crowding into this small space with him. Just a few inches shorter than the perro, the puppet is still dwarfed by his greater bulk, which might have led to some aggression due to feeling cornered, except... he has a friendly face, and kind eyes the color of a golden sunset. He's also big in a way that makes the back of his neck prickle.

Well, so long as he's here, he might make himself useful. They're still crowded into what's effectively a big wooden box, so he keeps his voice soft, a chatter of metal accompanying a gesture of his left hand, the steel digits glinting dully in the dim light. ]

It's what they call you until they decide what Suit you'll get. You'll know what it is when you find a mark on yourself, like this, [ he says, raising his right hand to demonstrate. Pinocchio pulls down the cuff of his sleeve to show a faintly gray spade on the inside of his wrist, partially covered by the wristband of his Watch. ] However, I prefer names to titles.

[ He gazes at him, expectantly. So, what's yours, big guy? ]