"But you wouldn't have any reason to kill him..." Max is getting worked up just talking about hypothetically killing his master, not least of all because his own death would swiftly follow.

"It doesn't matter. He's...not here." His emotions just from saying that are a knot of grief tangled in more relief and a lot of fear.

His hand slips to the back of his neck, to scratch nervously at an old scar. It always itches when he's upset. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now."