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Draugr is by Wander!
Though the silver-tinged wolfdog had thought this a very bad idea, she could not deny the usefulness of such a slave. His size meant power, if they could tame him. The wolfdog did not know if it was possible to tame such a canine. If it was within the realm of possibility, Dra certainly wasn't amongst those capable of such a task. Her mother was a better possibility, but Dra had left the political workings of this prisoner to Ataxia's judgment. Her silvery friend was still of higher rank, and it was to this the drab-hued hybrid bowed.
The voice which rose from within the cellar was little more than a muffled murmur, though the single word was easy enough for Dra to understand. There was the faint noise of movement from within -- slight movement, restricted -- and the man again spoke. Dra cocked her head and glanced toward Gjalda, who twitched his shoulders in a shrug after he realized she wanted a response. I think he is still chained. The Associate nodded her agreement and stepped back, indicating the remainder of the debris with a wave of her hand.
When the doorway was cleared, Dra stepped back, as if she expected the man to explode out of the cellar. He just might, too, she thought morosely. If that was the case, she wanted a head start on running away. If he was in better shape than the other day -- however unlikely that was -- she was not match for him. The slave propped open one door and opened the other.
You first, she said, nudging Gjalda forward with a hand. The wolfdog realized what she'd done only after the slave looked at her in astonishment, entirely unused to the touch of his masters -- gentle touch, anyway. She scowled and waved her hand. Go, she said, and the slave stepped forward into the dim basement. Dra allowed her pale eyes to adjust in the doorway before she stepped forward gingerly.
Water, I will give you. Explanation -- I don't think that is my place, she said, rolling her shoulders upward in a shrug and shuffling forward with the waterskin. She took a few steps and hesitated a moment, lingering well out of his reach. You won't hurt me? My ribs are very bruised, the hybrid admitted, though there was no accusation in her tone. She would have fought, too.
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