Boys Don't Cry - The Cure

“You're not very good at this, are you?” She said, mildly amused. “Slave master and healer. You're supposed to use the slave. If you break it, you can just buy another.” Derision, self deprecation. She knew her place in the world. It was Oleander who got confused.


She licked her dry lips. She was wrong, she hadn't been sick. She knew by the wolf that sat on Oleander's other side. When he saw her watching he grinned and waved a paw at her.


Her face lost all colour, and she understood then just how confusing the hallucinations could be. How it was a wonder that Oleander was even functioning at all. He looked so real, there was nothing fantasy about him at all. “That's one I think is most likely my father.” She said in a hushed whisper, nodding her head at the wolf beside Ollie. She swallowed. “He strangled my mother when she brought me time to escape. She was dying anyway, he just made it faster.” Her ears were folded, her tail tucked and her head ducked. A proper submissive pose.