Word Count :: 523
Earlier that day the Russian had stirred. There was much work to be done, always much work to be done, and she had a new project blossoming in her mind and it was time to get a move on. For whatever reason she had lingered, taken her time on buying Verusha as her personal slave – possibly because she wasn't being treated badly as a community slave – and so her mother often still slept in the general slave quarters. Off in search of her mother, Liliya approached the slave housing, hoping that her old coyote mother was not off on some errand for one of her pack mates.
Much to her joy, Verusha was still there, and thankfully awake. She always felt bad for rousing her mother in her sleep. “Come, mozher, we have work to get done today.” “Always, there is vork.” Verusha said, though obligingly, and followed her daughter from the quarter.
As they meandered from the place, something caught her eye. There, not far off, was a strange man speaking to the hobbled slave, Darijus. She cocked an eyebrow, never having met the person before, and for a moment bristled. Was this an intruder in Salsola? No, he couldn't possibly be a trespasser. No intruder would have made it this far, and Darijus knew all who were in their pack. The slaves would not stand to answer to an outsider, for outsiders were just as soulless as themselves. Not even the soulless answered to other soulless.
Curious eyes caught sight of the wood cart. Hmm... that was exactly what she needed for her new endeavor. When she turned back to the slave and the man she wondered what they could be doing with the wood. Only one way to find out.
“Hey, you zhere,” she called in her thick, Russian syllables. Casually, she moved toward him, now certain that the peculiar man was Salsolan, even if he was low ranked. Another question came to mind, though. What the heck was he? He didn't look like any coyote, and he certainly was not wolf.
“Vhat are you doingk?” Though her voice was firm and commanding, the assertion was mostly from the heavy accent in her words rather than a demand she was trying to make. Verusha tagged along behind her, looking at them with curiosity but remaining silent, for now. Who knew when the batty woman was going to decide it was her turn to start slinging questions at her superiors... but Liliya would worry about that if it happened. Sometimes Verusha's addled state was more of an inconvenience than it was worth.
Her eyes widened when she realized the meaning behind that horrible thought, thankful that she hadn't said it out loud. No! Of course she didn't mean it like that, of course she only meant that she wished her mother wasn't such a loon, not that her mother was a burden. She shook her head softly and tried to return her attention to the stranger.
“I am Liliya Russo. I am wonderingk if you have plan for all zhis wood in your cart?”
Image courtesy of davidesimonetti@Flickr; table by the Mentors!
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