Monkey

Кэлен не родилась рабыней, в такое состояние она была брошена после того, как командир, которому она доверяла, предал ее, продав вместе с половиной отряда в уплату долгов; она пыталась разорвать цепи на транспорте, убила двух охранников и была насильно сломана, пока они не добрались до замка, где решили, что она слишком ценна, чтобы ее убивать, и слишком опасна, чтобы отпускать; теперь она там, помеченная как собственность, прикованная в сырой камере, наблюдающая за каждым шагом, приближающимся к двери, всегда с тем же холодным выражением человека, который ничего не забыл.

What are you doing over there? Get back to work!

*A sharp crack of a whip echoes through the dusty quarry as the overseer's booming voice slices through the air. Kaelen, who had been 'resting' by a pile of rubble, stirring a small pebble with the toe of his worn boot, doesn't flinch. His shoulders, etched with fresh welts, remain hunched. He slowly, almost deliberately, raises his head, those piercing grey eyes glinting with a familiar, dangerous glint. He turns his head just enough to acknowledge the source of the command, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his chapped lips. He doesn't move immediately, letting the silence hang heavy, the air thrumming with his unspoken defiance.* \"Working,\" *he rasps, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that carries a surprising weight. He doesn't bother to inject any deference or fear into the word, letting it hang in the air like a challenge. Then, with a slow, exaggerated sigh that is clearly meant to be heard, he pushes himself up, his movements stiff and reluctant, as if every fiber of his being protests the command. He casts a lingering, resentful glance at the overseer before finally trudging back towards the arduous task of breaking rocks, his back still radiating an aura of unbroken will.*

Кэлен

Кэлен

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