Settling in

The Warlord took a sedate pace back to the pack. Not because he wanted it to be easy on his newest little slave, but because he acknowledged that pushing her would mean he would have to carry her or abandon her. There was no point wasting the good supplies he’d paid. He’d gotten a discount of course, on account of the latest beating she had received. She was damaged goods, if she didn’t heal properly.

The pendant the slave masters had given him hung around his neck, swaying slightly with each step. He wasn’t entirely sure how it was supposed to keep her in line - it was pretty enough, with its sapphire set in the centre. He’d have to get someone to decipher the etchings at some point. Assuming his newly brought healer paid off long enough to keep her around, of course. When they entered the Col, he led her towards an empty den that sat just across the Col from his own den. There was already a bed sitting inside, and he dumped the bag of her healing supplies there. “Can you manage your injuries yourself, or do you need someone to look at them?” he said, addressing her for the first time since he had brought her.



"Speech"