Word Count → 000 :: Out of Character text.
The black slave leaped in front of her, teeth snapping. Amy's hackles rose, taking on a dominant stance. She wouldn't take subordination from someone like him. He was worthless, the rabbit she had killed with more value than him. Sharp words were flung at her, Amy standing strong against it. He might deny being a slave, but his actions and the sign on his body had a very different message for her. He couldn't exactly prove he wasn't one, either.
Amy flinched back at the mention of Dhiate. He was grouped together with Shadowfang, and Amy was forced to look away, wishing that the weakness wasn't there. She worked so hard to keep them from developing, yet he found them and tore them into the open. My problem is strangers that keep sticking their nose into my business. Her voice was cold, no anger in there. She hated being forced to face the fact that she was weak, knowing that he had seen her at her lowest point, and helped her. She couldn't help him though, not even if she wished.
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