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Maybe there was fun yet to be had in Vieira. She was boring and useless because she had no spine, she had nothing to offer Eris anymore. Sure, it was wonderful to have a slave around to clean up and all of that, but all the fun was in breaking them. Eris had usually preferred once-free men made into slaves—they were always indignant, they were always horrified at their fate, they always fought and clawed to regain what they had lost, but in the end it came to nothing anyway, and eventually they learned this. Then they were no longer fun, and they were to be discarded. Vieira was different, though—Vieira had been inherited like any other possession, and Eris had kept her around for that reason alone. Maybe there was a little bit of sisterly affection at first, but it had waned as Eris's interest in the other canine had.
“Why would you lie to me, Vieira? You said you weren't going to cry,” the sable-furred canine asked, tilting her head to the side. Her hands were at her hips now, projecting sternness. Eris wasn't much taller than the other canine, but she had a good few inches on her, which was rare for the sable-furred woman.
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