[p] the divine separated from the swine
#1
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(321) This table made awesome by Mel!

Let me know if you need changes anywhere. :o Also, feel free to powerplay Molcaxitl when Khirot comes closer; she's just standing around on the bank above, watching Eris.

The dark woman slid down the riverbank, her claws scratching at the dirt. Wobbling, she regained her balance near the bottom of the bank and straightened, a scowl passing briefly over her face. It was quickly replaced by a look of pleasure, however, as the coal-furred hybrid's eyes fell upon her lovely fishing weir. Most of the rocks were in place just now; there were only a few areas still needing completion, and the hybrid thought they might finish today. It was still some time until she expected any of the slaves -- as per her usual command, she'd ordered Gjalda and Khirot to meet her here today. It was a pity Darijus was not much use in the water, but then again -- he had committed a grave offense against Eris's own daughter, and he had needed punishing.

The water glistened in the cool morning air, and Eris peered eagerly over the weir. The tide was high, but it was flowing out just now, and would soon be low enough to allow them to work. Silvery shapes flitted through the holes in the uppermost parts of the weir, where the water now seeped through. Fish, she knew -- and soon the weir would have them trapped here, easy pickings for the pack. The coal-furred hybrid was not hungry, but she was eager to test the workings of her weir, and if she did not eat her food, Molcaxitl could smoke the fish. The slave lingered somewhere up on the riverbank -- though she was lacking in physical strength and could not provide much help in moving the rocks, she could serve the other slaves and make sure they were well cared for during their labors.

The coal-furred woman waded into the water, standing in the shallows where the perilous current was not so dangerous. Peering over the water, she exhaled slowly, a small smile playing upon her face.

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#2
I suckkk *dies*

The tawny furred jackal still remembered the little assignment given by the Auxiliary, turning back to recollect the conversation they had that one day about the building of a workable water trap for fish. The sable coyote woman seemed delighted with the idea, despite his meek existence as a slave. Sometimes Khi would find himself wondering alone on the island, sometimes imagining if he had some sort of other life path, a different route it could have went. That would certainly be difficult, being raised as a slave from day one. 

What separated a slave from an everyday person? That though often occurred within the tawny hybrid's mind, was he part of a weaker race? A whole different classification of canines? Either way he was a laborer. And likely to be one forever. Khi often considered himself lucky, what he had was good fortune compared to some other occurrences with other new slaves: tortured until broken, without the gift of speech. Parts taken for punishment. Khirot didn't hold any of those things. As long as he kept to his duties and always obeyed the high one's orders...He would live and not have to face the pain. Tharot should have listened to his refusal of running away. Would have saved his neck. 

Ferrying the Sasolians across the waters had become a thing of life, built deeply into the fibers of the slave's survival. Don't upset the passengers. That would reward him punishment. It was pleasing however, knowing that he was rewarded for acting polite and obedient, not struggling from whatever master or higher canine whenever given a command. On the island (however lonely) there was plenty of freedom, there was a lack of chains and bindings, he still had his tongue! It was certainly much better than death. On occasion, the jackalwolf's mind would flick to the deceased Tharot, the attempted escapade alone with the downfall that cut his sibling down. Why not accept their status as laborers? It could not possibly be that unpleasant. In other more logical words, he worked to survive. 

The sun had risen far enough to call it midtime daylight, enough to see and work in. The tides were high enough to sail upon, safe enough to moor and especially calm. The order given by the dark pelted queen was not forgotten, definitely not. Walking on fit legs, Khirot made his way to the small "ferry" stepping in and grabbing the cable. Strong arms pulled, propelling him against the small waves. Some days, the submissive canine would be terrified to venture out upon them, petrified of being blown down from an untamable water beast. The slave let his thoughts diminish as he spotted the Auxilla, always regal as she had ever been. When close enough, Khi dropped his ears to his skull, tail making its way to wrap between his legs in a show of submission. "Mistress." Khi spoke acknowledging her and the slave upon the hill, Molca came sometimes to give him meat. His own reward for acting like a slave should. 
#3
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(344)
Shut UP I love everything about the way you're playing him. ;_;. Seriously, awesomeeee.

The dark woman bent over the moving water, her yellow-green eyes following the flashing silver movements of the fish. She sought particularly large ones -- the water this close to the sea was sure to hold fish of a larger size than some small lake or pond. The sable coyote's patience grew thin as her gaze darted about, and at last, she struck the water with outstretched claws. They sank into the fish's side, raking it nearly in two. Though her claw-hold did not remain in the fish, it died quickly, and Eris retrieved it, moving up the riverbank to find a tawny shape approaching the river.

The dark woman peered toward the shape and grinned broadly as she realized it was Khirot, early for his duties. The dark woman gave the fish she'd killed to Molcaxitl, who held the fish awkwardly in both hands, looking down at it with thinly-masked distaste. Eris received the tawny jackal's greeting with a nod of her head and smiled. You're early, she said, complimenting him. Molca, she prompted. Her coyote slave stepped forward and offered the fish to Khirot.

This project, she said, indicating the weir. This will be a great resource for Salsola, the woman said. It had been Khirot's plan to begin with -- Eris would not know the word "weir" if it had not been for the tawny jackal-companion. A good slave should receive a reward, and you've been good to Salsola in your labors for this project. the hybrid said. She did not believe in cruelty to slaves -- it had been one thing when she was one, with Vieira. That had been a different time entirely, and she had not realized the value in an obedient, subservient slave. They were a resource to be groomed and kept after as well as horses -- Salsolians were not cruel to their four-legged working animals, why should they be cruel to their fellow Luperci? A slave was still better than an outsider, as far as Eris held.



Eris is by Alaine!

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#4
My lateness is to be scolded though...Spring break sucked

Slavery was not a bad way to go in truth, beatings were rare (pretty much nonexistent!) most thoughts given to the free ones were twisted, expecting slavery as a curse from the wrath of the gods, a punishment rained upon them for a life of cruelty. That was unforgivably false, it was always complete your work without complaint, and life was a picnic the next way through. Emerald eyes acknowledged the dark woman, the smallest of smiles gracing his creamy features. Of course, his submission towards the monarch didn't falter, tail low and ears pressed to his skull. He approached listening politely for a command or some form of duty to be carried out. Instead to the jackal's surprise, Khi was given a praise. A spark of joy within the chest of the slave erupted into a quiet flame, but the only way to approach this much appreciated compliment was to accept it humbly, but never as if it didn't matter. It did. He looked at the fish bestowed in his arms by the coyote slave, glancing back up to the sable coywoman. "Thanks." A meal for later, a special one at that. 

If help was needed with the weir, where would his fish go? Shall he devour it where he stood? Or find a safe, hidden place? His confusion graced his face, looking back up with his brows knit. "Do we have...Um--A...Rope? For net?" Bright shamrock eyes glanced to the silvery darting shadows beneath the water, this just was not work. This was also a thing of assistance, helping the gracious pack survive. Khi's survival depended on the pack, in return their lives should have some right in the world to keep on. Tawny ears lifted waiting for some other type of acknowledgement, an order or suggestion on how to start. This running stream would be perfect for fish, like the dead one he held in his claws. Many mouths to feed, and another way to feed them.
#5
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(349)
No problem! Sorry it wasn't any fun for you. :c ♥ At least you had a Khirot to return to?! Big Grin!



Eris is by James!

The hybrid had come to view slavery differently from even when she'd established Salsola. She had known only Molcaxitl, and she had low expectations of her slaves -- they were creatures, meant to be used for labor, surely! Things had changed, however subtly. She better understood Molcaxitl herself now, and had come to think of herself as the slave-girl's protector in truth, not just with empty words. The sable-furred coyote had sworn to Axelle she protected Molcaxitl from the harms of the world, and now, the dark woman truly believed this.

Molcaxitl was afforded the protection of all of Salsola -- though their slaves were not on the same level at all as a ranked Salsolian, neither were they valueless. If this was the case, they might as well just capture slaves from the loner populations when they were needed for a particular undertaking or task, and kill them when their labors were through. If slaves were altogether without value, why bother feeding them, caring for them, educating them? These were thoughts the dark hybrid had pondered deeply in the past few months, though she had yet to share her new inclinations with anyone of the pack.

Though, of course, not all slaves were as exemplary as this Khirot -- Darijus had needed correcting, and more than once. They hadn't been able to break Cassius, and Eris had never quite figured out how the slave had escaped. It was no matter -- he was long gone, and she was served by better canines these days. He stood with fish in hand, seemingly stuck as to what to do with it. The hybrid thought on his question a moment, cocking her head as if she'd not noticed his confusion over the fish. Not yet. Can you weave rope? I cannot, she said, shrugging. Do as you would like with the fish -- eat it now, if you are hungry, or give it back to Molcaxitl, and she will cook it for you. There was no harm in choice, the hybrid thought -- choice was an illusion of freedom, after all.

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#6
/SAVANNAH Y U SO SLOWWW? I'm so sorry Sie ;_; I'm so sorry I'm so sorry...I've got this weird thing, where I feel like I can't make a post for poor Khi, and don't do it...But when i do, it just flows...SAVANNAH Y U SO LAZY?
320

It seemed as if his work was going to be much importance to Sasola in many ways, and still there was some pride felt deep within the tawny jackal, even if his choice in the matters wasn't there at all. Life as a slave wasn't really that bad. Considering that he had never been mistreated, or hurt as badly as anyone would think. It was the life destined for him, it still was much of a shame that Tharot had tried to rebel against that little detail of fate. Seriously shameful. In a way he missed his brother. The littermate he had made it fairly far with as a life as a laborer, yet how can it be forgiven that his end was brought on by himself? Green eyes flickered to his fellow slave as Eris mentioned the solutions to his confusion over the delectable silvery food given so generously. 

It wasn't like he was possessive over food or anything along the lines of that, the Kabul canine modestly transferred the fish to the young woman, nodding to his fellow captive. As Molca held the fish for him, large ears twitched as the Auxilary inquired about rope weaving. "Yes..." The submissive boatsman mentioned simply, thinking of the different options to making such a workable trap to use as efficient netting. 

There had always been wool, all one had to do was soak it with other fragments until the fibers were melded together, basically unbreakable unless intentional. Or there was hair...Weaving and braiding, finding rope anyway. There was so many options, many of them really seemed to be alright. "M-Mistress? What type of rope?" He had ever so many options, if asked he would gladly explain them to the sable leader. This project appealed greatly to the Slave of the Salt, very much so. Khi found himself rather confident he could try as hard as he could, and please Eris greatly.
#7
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No big deallll. <3



Eris is by Libri!

The coydog slave took the fish awkwardly, looking down at it. She moved up the riverbank and set it down, beginning the makings of a fire. The scent of smoke drifted down in no short order, filling the air with rich scent. Soon after, the smell of cooking fish wafted to Eris, and she breathed it with a sigh and a grin. With the weir, such a smell would be frequent within Salsola, no doubt. The dark-furred woman considered Khirot's question with a tilt of her head. What kinds of rope were there, anyway? Eris could not even begin to say that much. She was terribly uneducated in the ways of practicality -- having been cared for in Eterne and now here in Salsola, the dark-furred woman had only the brief time between Inferni and Salsola -- little more than a year and a half, really -- to learn how to take care of herself. Rope-making was not included in that year and a half, unfortunately, and she could only frown. What types of rope do you think might work for this project? There are many types, but we don't need something that will snap in only a year, she said, hoping her statement was correct.

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