"All right Vesper," The healer came out of his new room after sorting some of the items inside. It was time to see how far along her healing was coming, "Hopefully we can get you out for another walk today. You should be a lot stronger now." He said approaching her. Time to change her bandages, perhaps even leave them off and let the wound heal the rest of the way in the open air. But that'll be up to her. She had a while of resting and her muscles might have atrophied some.

He placed the fresh dressing beside him in case she still needed a new set and went to work over her back. Carefully he removed the bandage that was over her back to see how it had fared.

"Have you had any more thoughts about your specialties? That doesn't include... your previous line of work?" He tried tactfully. He had made an effort to speak very little to her for a while, trying to carefully formulate a new impenetrable mask around her. It was easy for him to hide his discomfort from his family. But somehow she got right under his skin.

"Speech"

Vesper’s tail flicked slowly behind her as Oleander came up to her. She had done a pretty decent job of scaring him away the last time they had had a proper conversation. Since then, she had collapsed walking with Wilder, and had the Warlord Basilisk come by and put the fear of the Armada in her. He was damn near the size of the Polar Bear, and she could see him holding a whip to her back if she got out of line.

She hadn’t realised how comfortable she had gotten around Oleander and this pack until those two events. She was feeling especially fragile when Oleander started to look at her back. It took some effort, but she managed to hold her tongue. “My Master’s don’t believe in training slaves, Lord Oleander. A smart slave is a troublemaker.” She explained, a hint of a sigh in her voice. She hadn’t the faintest idea how to read, write, hunt, or do any of the jobs a normal wolf knew from puphood.


"Speech"

He noticed each flinch and whisk of her tail, trying to gauge her reactions to him and his care, especially after her walk with Wilder and Basilisk putting her on the path of being a good slave.

Poor girl had been through so much already, but if she was going to be a slave of the Armada, and eventually a proper member, she needed to know how to behave like one.

He nodded as she mentioned that she had no other training.
"Well, as your master, I get to decide that I want an educated and strong slave. You will be attending lessons held by the Steward Ignita, who was a former slave mind you, and every wolf in the Armada learns how to defend themselves. Including slaves." His tone was even, somewhat stern as he spoke and examined her wounds.

"Now tell me how it feels when I press here... hm... and here? Can you feel this? I need honest answers to determine your health." He said as he gently pressed in a spot and then another along her back with pressure. Then took the back of his knuckle and lightly brushed over the scarring. He was testing if there was nerve damage. She no doubt would have with the way the bear had been eating into her. She had to regrow a whole muscle or two.

"Speech"

She kept her eyes off him as he spoke, but the flick of her ears would tell him that she was listening. Oh goodie. She thought at his instructions. What sort of learning would he expect her to do, exactly? She supposed it could only be better than horizontal work. Even if she had been feeling an itch lately. That was probably the boredom speaking.

She let out a soft hiss of surprise when he pressed a paw to her back. Her tender, healing muscles definitely felt that. But she supposed that was a good thing, the bear and whip had done so much damage to her back it was a wonder she could feel anything at all. “Feels peachy. Press harder, My Lord.” Goddammit she really needed better control of her tongue.


"Speech"

He couldn't help the curl of his lip and the narrowing of his eyes as she gave him the sarcastic retort instead of the honesty he asked for. His white tail flinched in annoyance as he hovered over her.

He firmly pressed just a little harder into her back, over a tender but sealed portion, as you wish. He thought. "Try again, Vesper." He hissed, "You can save the sass when I'm not trying to measure your health." His words ground through gritted teeth.

She had to learn to give him absolute honesty at least in this circumstance, he knew it hurt, and he wanted her to say it hurt. Kindness and compassion were a joke to her, let's see if he could learn how to communicate in a way she understood.

"Speech"

It hurt like hell when the healer pressed a little harder against her wound. She thought of her collapse, of the Warlord's words. Of her previous masters. Don’t show weakness. Don’t let them see where it hurts. She knew her tongue got her into more trouble than any other slave in her old group.

But she also knew that showing pain was an even bigger weakness. Too many of the bigger bullies liked pain. Pushed for it. Oleander was a healer, but she couldn’t… she couldn’t. “Must-be” she let out a breath, breathing through the pain. “All-better.” She told him, trying to lessen her panting.


"Speech"

His grimace deepened and he pulled back his paw. She was obviously in pain. Intense pain. It just didn't make sense to him! You always had to tell the truth to a healer! He could see it on her features, and her carefully masked panting...

A mask! But why? Why mask for him? He's the highest ranking healer here... But she didn't come from here. She'd never even seen a healer before him! Right! To her, he was just another master, inflicting pain. He sighed and shook his head.

"I can at least make the bandage a lot smaller now. I don't know if your fur will ever grow back though." He confessed, perhaps talking more to himself than to her. His tone was somber, neutral. He was still puzzling over how to get to her.

He bandaged her up again in fresh plant paste and bandages only on the last bits that still needed to be covered and encouraged to mend.

"Let's get you walking. Come along." He commanded. He would let her take her time, watching her as she stood and he would start to walk her out of the clinic and toward the obelisk.
"Speech"

She was just vain enough to regret his words. She liked her coat, even though being pretty could be a curse… but her mother had been prettier, had sheltered her from attention as much as she couldn’t until she couldn’t anymore. Despite it all, she liked being pretty. She didn’t say anything as he grabbed another set of bandages, smaller this time. Less area to cover as she slowly but surely came right again. Or, as right as she could be.

“Well! Guess it’s a good thing you didn’t buy me for sex, or you’d be mighty disappointed about now.” she said brightly, deflecting again. Making it about Oleander. If slaves weren’t brought for sex in Armada (she still only barely believed him there) she wondered what the rules were for slaves when it came to sex. There were so many different rules here. She knew she was likely to barrel into one of them sooner or later.

He insisted they go for a walk, and waited for her to get out of her bed. “Oh goodie, I like taking a swan dive.” She said, obediently getting to her paws, and limping after him. Apparently the end of her sass lasted about as long as it had taken to get his full attention again.


"Speech"

At this point, he could do nothing but roll his eyes and shake his head. It was almost... endearing? How she would deflect all the way back into that life he had never even considered was possible. He held his own tongue for the moment as they prepared for the outing. He might as well just get used to her sass, seemed to be a part of her, as long as she wasn't outright disrespectful. Especially as she quipped another remark when he made her get up to go on a walk.

He shook his head again with a better natured huff, "Well hopefully you won't be pushed into that nose dive!" He chided as he leisurely strolled down the corridor out to the soil of the Col.

"I'm taking you over there, to the pointy thing? It's the obelisk. It's got the rules of Armada on it. Your first lesson is to learn them." She said she hadn't had any education, so she probably couldn't read like Iggy could. He'll read them to her then.


"Speech"

Oh, was that a threat? She glanced over at the healer, not quite meeting his eyes. But with a hint of… amusement. Was the healer growing a backbone? It would be harder to get under his skin if he did. Perhaps he was growing calluses against her nature.

They started to leave the den, and Oleander showed her their destination. Pointing to a large stone that sat in the middle of the Col. she squinted, looking at the pale object. How fancy she thought. She was pretty sure half her masters couldn’t read either, and if they had a fancy rules rock, they’d probably have just pissed on it. Ohhh…. There was an idea… how much trouble would she get into…

“Excellent, Lord Oleander. I love rules.” She said as they approached. If he expected her to read them, they were going to be there a while.


"Speech"

He made no move to respond to her retort this time. Just strolled along until they got to the obelisk.
"Sit here." He directed and sat next to her, looking up at the obelisk. He could vaguely remember, through the haze of his childhood playing underneath the stone, trying to pay attention to some grownup or other teaching him to read from it. There were bits of moss growing around the corners now and the words were dark with accumulated dust in the carved letters.

"Can you recognize any letters?" He asked, narrowing his eyes at her, waiting for her next move. He could technically read it, though it wasn't his strong suit. He mostly memorized the rules more than read them. He wouldn't be able to read one of Iggy's books, that's for sure.

"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

She sat exactly where she told him to, like a good doggie. She looked up at the towering Obelisk in front of them, with the strangely wiggly lines that went across its form. Clearly a lot of time and effort had been put into crafting this monument. Effort that was wasted on the likes of Vesper.

So he did want him to read it, did she? She peered a little closer, as if making sure she could see it right, and parted her lips. “The rules of the Armada'' She said, which was a pretty educated guess considering he’d already told her that's what this was. “Beat your slaves regularly. Obey the scary Warlord, eat your vegetables and remember guys, rape is fun.” She said solemnly, as if she was reading sacred text. Hey, this wasn’t like… actually sacred to him or anything, was it?


"Speech"

That... was disrespect against the entirety of the pack. She will know how important the obelisk and honor in the Armada is.

A low warning rumble reverberated in his chest. He leaned forward with a dangerous gleam. Oleander unsheathed his viciously sharp cat talons and placed his paw spayed over the text.

"The first law: The alpha's word is law." He said with a warning growl, piercing her with a steady viridian gaze.

"The fourth law: Regardless of rank, all pack wolves are entitled to the basic necessities of life." He gave a steadying breath. His mother would want him to hold himself dignified.

"The fifth law: Treat your fellow members with respect and do not seek to harm any other who calls the Armada home." Did she call the Armada home? Or prison?

"The seventh law: Show restraint and respect, have honor and dignity." He was certainly showing restraint. And it certainly wasn't honorable or dignifying to allow a slave to disrespect the pack.

"The Ninth law: Every member is expected to contribute to the pack and not leach off of it." At the moment, she had been a leach on their resources, she needed to start contributing when she was healthy enough.

"The Tenth Law: Reproduction is not a right. All wolves must ask permission before creating more mouths to feed." It probably didn't answer her question if slaves were raped or not.

"You will be taught to read. And you will read the others when you can." He finished with a dignified huff.

"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

He didn’t respond to her disrespect, but instead put a paw to the obelisk and displayed claws that she hadn’t realised he possessed before. Unsheathed, they were vicious looking tools.

He then began to list out the rules. The first rule was… close to one she had picked. And typical, too. A typical tyrant, but she was accustomed to those. Ohhh! He couldn’t count, either. That was interesting. “Too scared to admit I guessed the second and third right? Or did you miss those claws when you were counting?” she asked, battering her lashes at him. She didn’t know how far was too far, and the words slipped out without much consideration while she went over what she had said in her mind. She couldn’t read, but she had a pretty decent memory. She was allowed the basic necessities, eh? Good to know they would feed and water her. She’d had plenty of hungry nights in her life. She thought she showed some pretty good restraint at their tenth law. That one was a hoot, and near the opposite of what she was accustomed to. To refrain from reproduction was not a right. You got pregnant when they got you pregnant, and that was that.


"Speech"

His claws left the obelisk and swung fast to the side of her face, with enough practiced force to send her to the ground. She was lucky he was aiming for her maw and not her eye. He stood silently over her and glared. Dared her to try again. His ears pinned back and his lip curled. His tail held high in rank.

He was not going to tolerate her disrespecting the pack and its rules. He was no longer going to tolerate her jabs at his expense. She can jab at her own expense, but no one else's, not anyone in the Armada. She needed to earn her place first.


"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

His attack was so swift, so unexpected that she couldn’t even brace for it. She couldn’t wholly say it was unexpected. Abuse was always anticipated, pain a friend around the corner. His claws scraped against her muzzle and she hit the ground hard. She didn’t bother to wipe the blood she could feel dripping from the fresh claw marks across her skin. She lay in the soft dirt, and looked up at him. Up at his neck, his shoulders, anywhere but his eyes.

There it was, she knew it had been in there all along. Lurking, just below the surface. Violence, bloodlust. The blood rolled down her face, towards her eyes as she lay there another moment, and then slowly rolled onto her back. Displaying her stomach, her throat. The most vulnerable parts of her body. Submissive, as she had been taught to be from birth. She had finally, finally, proven to her, and to Oleander himself that violence would always be the answer. “Are you going to take your slave next, My Lord?” because all his words had been lies.

"Speech"

He watched her roll over onto her back. A practiced move of her own. She wouldn't meet his eyes, a daring girl put back in her place, if only for the moment.

She asked if he would take her. His tail flinched, along with the side of his face.

"No." He replied, "You will not be used like that here. You will stop offering yourself like this here. You will learn better dignity and honor. First, you will learn to respect the laws of the Armada. Get up." He growled, stalking around her. Circling her like a vulture.

"The fifth law: Treat the members of the Armada with respect. You will no longer tease the others around you. Curb your tongue. You will learn restraint, and how to properly show respect." He growled.

"Come." He would lead her back to the clinic, he would at least tend the wound he gave her.

"Speech!"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

He beat her down and then ranted about dignity and respect? Honour? Normally a beating did at least a little to curb her tongue, but she could feel her blood boiling beneath her skin. He just didn’t get it, did he? He was skirting around the edges, too afraid to fall in. Playing the good guy, when the villain all masters were lay just beneath the surface. Did pretending help him sleep at night? Pretending he had the dignity not to abuse his slave, even while beating her into the dirt?

She wouldn’t let him pretend. With every punishment he laid on her, she would only be proving herself right. She got slowly to her paws. “You just don’t get it, do you? There is only one life for a slave. For me. I get beaten until I can barely move, and then I get raped until I can’t feel my body. When I drag myself back to my paws in the morning, I take out their washing and shovel their shit. Why the fuck do you think your own shit dosen’t stink? You're just as culpable as the rest of them. You're a murderer, and a monster, and it wouldn’t take but a small push, and you’d be a little rapist in training, too.” She held her head high, letting the blood run slowly down her muzzle. She could hear it pitter-patter against the floor beneath her. Proof. A badge of his sin, and she would force him to look at it. To see who he was.

"Speech"

He stopped his walk back to the clinic. His back was to her and his face hidden. She wouldn't be able to see the smirk that creased his face before he brought his invisible mask back down. He slowly turned back to her, his face neutral and calm. He stalked back to her broken body and sat before her.

He nodded his head curtly to her, "Now we're getting somewhere." The badge of his sin dripped freely, it didn't move him one bit. It might scar her, it might remind her. Hmm... Looked a lot like Iggy's actually. It was up to her if it was going to scar her if she let him treat it or not.

"I'll take murderer of bears. I've never killed my own kind, I don't know if I deserve Monster yet, but if that's what you need to start figuring out your place here I'll take it." He wasn't as smooth a talker as Basilsk or Absinth, he wasn't going to try talking her in circles.

He didn't try to get her to meet his eyes, yet. "What does respect mean to you?" He asked his tone still stern and hard.

"Speech"

He didn’t even try to deny anything she said. He came back to her, taking a seat before her and agreed that monster might fit, if that was what she needed. It was like the mask had dropped, and she was seeing him for who he was now. At last, she finally knew where she stood. He had tried to pretend that the Armada was different, but it was just the same as everywhere else. The patterns were the same, her reason in life was the same. He would do his best to smother the glimmer of personality she had held, just like her last pack. I’m sorry, mum. She thought softly. She knew her mother had given up her life to give Vesper a chance to escape. Because her daughter wouldn’t live to see her second year, not with her broken personality.

She looked at his paws, her voice dull and soft when she answered him. “Respect… respect means treat your masters like an authority, or they won’t treat you like a person.” she kept the sass out of her words this time, her stomach hurt, something inside of her hurt. She hadn’t wanted to be right, but she had pushed, and pushed, and she found the monster inside. She had known it was there, so why bother pretending she didn’t? She just couldn’t not look for it, it was who she was.

Her words fit, that was exactly what he wanted from her. He didn’t want personality, he didn’t want a person. He wanted a slave, respect.


"Speech"