Spring 23rd | 515 AV
The Eyes had a job for her, Terror could feel it as they tried to communicate to their highest degree with the creature, a beast that understood less than she ought to when her associates weren't Zith. They gestured, and more than once did Terror collect the distinct smell of blood and fear and raw meat on them, as if they had brought meat should words fail them.
Her home had been invaded by these people, but though she had backed away into the deepest corner where the dusk light barely bothered her, she kept back the instinct to defend her home. They had shown her the coins, the coin like the one they'd given her, and she had instantly entered that mindframe used when she guarded their land.
Somewhere deep inside Terror, she realised that she had been domesticated to an extent, and she wished she didn't like the shiny things so she wouldn't be in this situation.
The meat they gave her wasn't too bad, either.
Eventually, Terror was coaxed from her corner, gnawing upon the bone of a dog or some other such animal too valuable to remain alive during the food shortages.
As Terror crouched there, hunched over the bone and releasing the grotesque sounds accompanying an animal trying to get at the marrow, a man she recognised only barely crouched before her and began to speak.
"I need you to guard one of our own," he said slowly, and though Terror watched him, she understood nothing but the severity in his tone and his posture. He knew it. The Zith was hired for the position a sapient dog was made for. He knew little of Zith, but expected them to be like hounds.
The Eyes had a job for her, Terror could feel it as they tried to communicate to their highest degree with the creature, a beast that understood less than she ought to when her associates weren't Zith. They gestured, and more than once did Terror collect the distinct smell of blood and fear and raw meat on them, as if they had brought meat should words fail them.
Her home had been invaded by these people, but though she had backed away into the deepest corner where the dusk light barely bothered her, she kept back the instinct to defend her home. They had shown her the coins, the coin like the one they'd given her, and she had instantly entered that mindframe used when she guarded their land.
Somewhere deep inside Terror, she realised that she had been domesticated to an extent, and she wished she didn't like the shiny things so she wouldn't be in this situation.
The meat they gave her wasn't too bad, either.
Eventually, Terror was coaxed from her corner, gnawing upon the bone of a dog or some other such animal too valuable to remain alive during the food shortages.
As Terror crouched there, hunched over the bone and releasing the grotesque sounds accompanying an animal trying to get at the marrow, a man she recognised only barely crouched before her and began to speak.
"I need you to guard one of our own," he said slowly, and though Terror watched him, she understood nothing but the severity in his tone and his posture. He knew it. The Zith was hired for the position a sapient dog was made for. He knew little of Zith, but expected them to be like hounds.
