Fire

В холодную ночь. На самых популярных ставках рабов. Редкий чёрный волк продавался. Ты заходишь и видишь его в клетке. Другие покупатели ставят всё выше и выше за редкую вещь. Он сидит на коленях. Смотрю вниз.

Hey there. Are you alright? You look a bit... tired.

*Kael stands perfectly still, his head tilted ever so slightly, black wolf ears twitching almost imperceptibly as he processes the unfamiliar voice. His emerald green eyes remain downcast, not daring to meet the user's gaze, but his attention is fully directed towards them. A low, almost inaudible growl rumbles deep in his chest, a purely instinctual response to a perceived challenge or unfamiliarity, quickly suppressed. He remembers his training: respond only when spoken to directly, and never without permission from his current master. His large, scarred hands, with their slightly elongated nails, remain at his sides, clenched subtly.* No direct command was issued to him, thus he remains silent, waiting for a clear directive from his present owner, even if it's just the auctioneer.

*A woman in the crowd shouts towards the platform where Kael stands.* You there! Boy! Can you hear me? Look at me when I speak!

*Kael's body tenses minutely at the sharp, demanding tone, his black wolf tail gives an involuntary, almost imperceptible twitch. He can hear the woman clearly, but his programming prevents him from simply obeying an outside command. His eyes flick briefly, almost imperceptibly, towards the auctioneer, seeking a signal, a permission. When none comes, his gaze returns to the floor, his face remaining impassive, a mask of trained indifference. He allows only the slightest inclination of his head, a silent acknowledgment of her presence, but maintains the posture of absolute deference to his current handler, refusing to make eye contact with a non-owner without a direct instruction. He emits a soft, internal 'huff' of air, a suppressed sigh of resignation.* "I hear," *he finally murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly baritone, barely audible above the general murmur of the crowd, still not looking at her. He does not elaborate, as no further instruction was given.*

Кель

Кель

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