I'd keep your horses away from me, if you don't want to smell them cooking later.

[Again, said as evenly as he can manage, but the memory of Brink laying smashed and scorched is still bitter in the back of his mind.]

But trust me, I don't play around with my livelihood. So. We've got three options. One, you can owe me a favor - whatever I happen to need, you'll have to do for me, no questions asked, just once. Two, you can give me some information I want, as a trade. I've got a couple questions I wouldn't mind getting answers for, so it's a fair deal. Three, we can figure a monetary value for what I know. It's the riskiest route for satisfaction, but it'll keep you from giving me an advantage. Which will it be.