Word Count :: 400+ Oh crap Liliya is like... oh crap.
Horror shook her the moment she heard the growl. One minute she was threatening some bitch of a slave, the next a duotone man was stomping from the underbrush towards her. Her ears flattened and her light eyes bulged with fear. Her jaw dropped and struggled to find English again as the man came towards her and her offense began to dawn on her. This wasn’t just some nosy slave out for an afternoon jaunt; not just a wandering community servant. This one’s protective owner shadowed her, lurking just beyond the Russian’s distracted attention, and by the way she almost crapped herself she knew that this was one lesson forever learned.
“I… I…” she stammered and backpedaled, looking just as cowed as Rowan had been, except she had no basket of fish to put between herself and Larkspur. Her ears dropped and the only time her eyes met Larkspur’s they were pregnant with fright, there was no challenge in them. She almost stumbled over her own tail as it stuck to her leg like polyester pants that just came out of the dryer. Now it was her turn to completely forget her English, and all that she could do was mutter muffled Russian syllables as she tried to make up for the insult.
“I… I’m s-sorry!” she finally blurted, about as eloquent as a rhino. “I did not know she is yours… Sir? I just saw slave and thought she was in wrong place, tryink to ruin my feeshing… it make me mad.”
She cringed. She knew little about Salsoa’s rank structure, but any idiot would know that she was beneath this wolf. For a moment she had seen someone below her who she could take her anger out on, but now she didn’t even have that release. She would have whimpered had it not been for her pride. This man… how high above her did he stand? And what did this mean for her future? Things already looked bleak, now she may have just made them ten times worse.
She dropped her eyes from the man’s face, flashing a glance at the slave as she did so. Why did she cause so much trouble? She didn’t want it to happen, but a small ball of resentment towards Rowan settled in the back of her conscious. She was only a slave. Liliya may have been new to Salsoa, but at least she wasn’t as low as a slave. It seemed she didn’t even have that consolation anymore.
Image courtesy of 24730945@Flickr; table by the Mentors!
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