A soft muzzle brushed against the thick fur of her throat, and Vesper pressed her body closer in reaction, embracing the female the best she could. Tawny fur kissed grey as she drew a tongue across a floppy dark ear, unsure of what else she could do. It was rare that she would comfort someone like this, but it was driven by the softer instincts inside her. None of the scarred fighter remained now, except for the sharpness of her mind; she was instead a woman who cared, a woman who would fight for the purpose of protection rather than pride. She didn’t know if she’d ever see the dog again, but for now, she would be there.
The dog spoke about masters coming to beat her, and her voice quickly devolved into a cry that made Vesper touch her nose firmly but gently to her shoulder, telling her silently to hush. “You were enslaved?” she asked, her voice hoarse with the shock at the thought. In all her life, she’d come across relatively little suffering. The murder of her mother and the theft of her sister had rocked her younger world, but there were worse things—such as ongoing abuse or torture. Ves hadn’t had a perfect life, but then again, she’d been strong, and she’d never suffered that kind of abuse in her life.
The dog gave her name, and Vesper repeated it softly. “Bambi.” It was such a sweet name, two syllables beginning with that ‘b’ sound, that press of lips. She smiled gently then. “Bambi. You’re safe. The masters aren’t going to punish you.” She resisted the urge to assure her she’d done nothing wrong, not wanting to trigger another memory in case she’d had.
