11-28-2009, 12:08 AM
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Snake’s light-tipped tail twitched at being addressed as ‘sir’. It had happened before, but he had assumed that it was just manners in the greeting. Now it seemed recurring, which meant that this girl either understood the hierarchy too well, or had an inferiority complex. Or both. Snake had known weeks ago that he had been elevated from the subordinate ranks, but he doubted that someone who—her scent betraying—was new knew that. So perhaps it was just that she referred to everyone with honorifics to keep herself out of trouble, or out of habit. Both were good for self-preservation in such lands, however, so Snake eventually put aside his reactions to it.
Her next statement didn’t evoke much of a reaction out of him, though he did notice that it wasn’t something that he heard every day. The woman said that she belonged to Kaena. The first thing that came to Snake’s mind was his knife, and how he knew that it belonged to him. It was strange to think of a living being belonging to someone like a possession, but it did not affront him. Prisoners belonged to their captors, and Snake had been a prisoner for the first half of his life. Slaves might as well be more privileged than captives. Usually owners cared if a slave died; it was not the same with low prisoners.
She introduced herself as Vieira Lykoi. It was curious that her last name was attributed to Kaena, but Snake decided not to ask how it came about. “Snake,” he introduced. A moment passed before he realized that she might not understand what that meant, out of context. “My name, Snake.” He looked into the fire hurriedly, his ears flicking back. “How did you come to belong to Kaena, Vieira?”
Snake’s light-tipped tail twitched at being addressed as ‘sir’. It had happened before, but he had assumed that it was just manners in the greeting. Now it seemed recurring, which meant that this girl either understood the hierarchy too well, or had an inferiority complex. Or both. Snake had known weeks ago that he had been elevated from the subordinate ranks, but he doubted that someone who—her scent betraying—was new knew that. So perhaps it was just that she referred to everyone with honorifics to keep herself out of trouble, or out of habit. Both were good for self-preservation in such lands, however, so Snake eventually put aside his reactions to it.
Her next statement didn’t evoke much of a reaction out of him, though he did notice that it wasn’t something that he heard every day. The woman said that she belonged to Kaena. The first thing that came to Snake’s mind was his knife, and how he knew that it belonged to him. It was strange to think of a living being belonging to someone like a possession, but it did not affront him. Prisoners belonged to their captors, and Snake had been a prisoner for the first half of his life. Slaves might as well be more privileged than captives. Usually owners cared if a slave died; it was not the same with low prisoners.
She introduced herself as Vieira Lykoi. It was curious that her last name was attributed to Kaena, but Snake decided not to ask how it came about. “Snake,” he introduced. A moment passed before he realized that she might not understand what that meant, out of context. “My name, Snake.” He looked into the fire hurriedly, his ears flicking back. “How did you come to belong to Kaena, Vieira?”
table credit goes to jacoby
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