shackles

m - mentions of abuse, rape, neglect, etc possible

The least they could've done was left him in the shade.

That morning slavers left him here, tied up and left to succumb to the elements after their sale ended. If he were lucky, someone would find him and save him, but as the heat of the day was rolling in he accepted that his luck had simply run out and that this was what he deserved anyway. It didn't matter what he wanted, just what he deserved. Had he been better, made less mistakes even, perhaps things would be different and he'd at least be somewhere safer, less hungry, and only partially sunburned. Instead, the boy was absolutely dehydrated and his pale flesh now bright red from it's unprotected extended exposure to the sun all that morning. With his mouth bound shut and his ankles tied loosely together, enough that he can walk, but not run, by the ropes used to shackle them, he was tied to a smaller runestone, given only enough slack on his ropes to lay down.

Blood stained his fur among other things from dirt to bodily fluids from the punishments he had received the night before their departure, his fresh wounds only minor but left untreated through the night and allowed to clot into his filthy coat. He looked like he crawled straight out of a grave, and honestly he didn't smell much different either. Curled into the tightest ball in front of the runestone he was shackled to, he did his best to hide as much of his painful flesh from the burning rays as he could, his whines soft and pained as he waited for the inevitable.

"Speech."