"Making chain is fiddly." It doesn't dawn on him that his new master might not know that, but he can realize now he was working at it too long - there's thick red lines on his fingers from the wire and the tools and his legs still burn as the blood returns to them. "I didn't mean to make you wait. I'm sorry." He is, a plaintive tone in his voice. Please don't be mad at me, he wants to beg. But pride keeps him from it, especially at this juncture.

Anakin stopped to think about the answer, because he started to say 'no', his mouth almost forming the word before he ducked his chin and thought about it. "I'm not sure. Does it matter if it's real? 'Cause I think I remember something. But I might have made it up."