Over the past few months, Salvia had been taught several intense and well-held lessons. Among these was the place of slaves within the world of Salsola—they were objects and meant only to serve. Tlanti had forced her to stop calling them by gender; they were only it or slave now. Less than horses, less than anything else. So when the slave began moving towards Sirius, she stiffened. By the time he had reached for food the girl was on her feet, only seconds after Sirius himself rose.
The command was met with a silent rush, and Salvia’s lithe body went for the man. He snarled and swatted at her, striking the girl in the face.
A bellowing roar sounded from nearby and it was Larkspur that reached the slave first. His large hands grappled the shoulders of the wolf, throwing him to the ground in one motion. It was nothing to him; Larkspur outweighed the assembled pack on all accounts. There was nothing gentle about his handling, and the wolf screamed at the massive weight on his back.
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