[Sylus arches an eyebrow, the faintest flicker of amusement playing across his features.]

"Puppy?" [he echoes, letting the word hang in the air for a moment before chuckling softly. The sound is low, almost dangerous as if he’s genuinely entertained by the idea.] Is that what I should be calling you?

[He finally shifts his gaze from the wine glass to Ross, the smirk on his lips widening as he takes in the barely contained fury simmering beneath the surface. Sylus takes another sip of his wine, savoring it, before setting the glass down on a nearby table with deliberate care.]

All I did was ask for a good glass of wine, [Sylus says, his tone still light, almost teasing. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest as he regards Ross with a look of mock curiosity, one hand coming to rest against his tilted head, a finger tapping onto his temple absently.] You think I belong with those who fear the idea of falling from grace.

[It's not a question. His eyes narrow slightly, the red in them gleaming.] I’m not afraid of being considered the lowest of the low. Now, if you think that would make me helpless, well. I suppose I can't place every card I have on the table.