Late. 5:30 in the morning, to be exact. The 'net seems to be down at the moment, so I'm writing this in WordPad and intend to upload it later, when things work right. Hopefully. Any outlet for this works, though. I've only thrown up once tonight since coffee, but... yeah. Once is enough. Unpleasant stuff, that. No real need to think about that right now, though. Not when there's a pawful of stories tumbling over each other in my head, screaming and clawing their way into my conscious mind, demanding to be let out onto a page somewhere, anywhere, as long as they get written.

Demanding little things, they are.

For now, I'm going to just core dump - pour out as much as I possibly can into this, and not worry about whether or not it's chronologically correct, or even part of the same story. This is just to get it all OUT, for now... out here where I can cope with it, deal with it, spell-check it into submission. *slight grin*

- - -

He remembers, sometimes, the strength his paws used to have. Pacing the confines of his latest cage, it's hard to recall exactly how easy it was to kill with just one blow, how simple to tear his way through whatever blocked his path. It's hard to bring that strength back to mind usually, in part because those powerful claws have nothing to tear at here, his limbs kick and pace against cold steel and rough concrete, not soft dirt and the sweet textures of flesh and bone falling under each flash of paw and claw.

He remembers occasionally, though. This is one of those times, his pulse racing, his eyes narrowing to slits as a shadow glides past the door, hindpaws curling beneath him in preparation for a leap... then a familiar scent wafts in as the door opens and he sinks down fully, abasing himself without the hesitation he used to show, certainly without the defiance he displayed before that. His eyes close completely, forepaws splayed out in front of him, tail tucked between his hindquarters, and thus he waits.

Footsteps, bare feet padding across the uncomfortable floor, only one set this time. He finds himself grateful for that, thankful that at least today's shame, whatever it might be, will not be witnessed by anyone else. That momentary relief comes crashing down when he hears her voice, followed by the hush of fur-cloaked paws coming just within the cage, then stopping. Two more people; strangers, from the scents, and they have traces of blood somewhere in their fur, tears too. Almost, his curiousity lifts his head... but he knows better, and keeps his chin tucked between his forelimbs, still waiting.

"Up. Greet."

Two words, both purred, but the coldness of the commands are clear. A moment later he's on all four paws, head raised alertly, turning first to the one who spoke and letting his muzzle drop, ears perked slightly, his voice as polite as he can manage. "Grrreetings, my Lady," he growls, then turns to the newcomers and... stops. It takes a jolt of pain running abruptly from the collar at his throat through every nerve in his body to snap him out of it long enough to finish his task, and his voice is rough now, harsh.

"Grrreetings, meat-crrreaturrres."

The two who are crouched by the door seem dismally unsurprised by this form of address, and merely drop into the submissive posture he himself had assumed earlier, their furless bodies shivering as they are pressed to the floor, their thick-furred paws splayed wide, and tails twined together for comfort as well as because both slender appendages are linked by twin piercings and a thin copper chain. The Lady who had commanded him seems entertained by this, her laughter bubbling up for a moment before she speaks again.

"Playtoys, dinner, new owners, or slaves of your own... I don't care what you do with them, and I doubt they will protest any fate - they have earned the worst, and even being allowed to die at the paws of someone who might kill them quickly is more kindness than they deserve. Isn't that right, my little runaways?"

The newcomers shiver further at the horrible cheerfulness in her tone, the casualness with which she discusses their fate... and nearly shudder into pieces as they are suddenly recipients of her full attention. One, a young boy, merely nods. The other, female, manages to squeak out a faint "yes, Lady" before she too stutters and with a quick nod of her own, tries to sink into the floor. Again the Lady speaks, voice suddenly quiet, sharp.

"Amuse me with their treatment, show me that you can find some way to please me, and you will be allowed back into the rooms I'd set aside for you. No more tiny cramped cage... instead, a soft bed, a well-kept garden, a pool of sweet water, all yours. Earn forgiveness, and you earn that privilege."

The last word is nearly hissed, and seems to trail off into silence, spoken as she is already moving to the door. A moment later she is outside, the door shut and locked, and as her shadow disappears around a corner he sinks once more to the floor, resting his chin on his paws and staring worriedly at the two half-breeds in the cage with him.