There was a way that things were done within Salsola, and Salvia, as its first daughter (not first born in the lands, but the first daughter none the less) had learned quickly what to expect. Tlanti had swiftly educated Salvia that slaves were not people, but objects to be used. Green eyes narrowed as the gray-silver female approached, but she was Bastion’s acquisition and from what Salvia knew of the odd man, he was strict with the slaves.
“Get up. You are coming with us,” Salvia ordered. Without waiting for a response, the wolf trotted off. She moved with the easy pace of her breed, heading towards the northern section of the territory. Once they were outside of the residential area, her nose dropped to the ground and she began tracking much in the way that Sirius had shown her. Pale feet moved easily over the landscape, familiar with the ground beneath her feet. Odessa, behind her, was rapt and at attention for what commands might be issued. She spared occasional glances to the slave-woman, immensely curious as to why Salvia might bring her along.
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