[Hermitage of Dalachrech]

Oh yeah! We have a scene in Riverside to carry on with, don't we? I'll get right on that after this post. Thanks for the veiled poke. I am, as you have no doubt already noticed, a irredeemably forgetful person.

As for the harsh, excessively abusive scene unfurling before Mine's eyes, Mine doesn't exactly know how to react to it. By that I mean, he likely isn't pleasing his "delightfully well-mannered" and "most graciously ignoble" Mistress with his actions. Sure, he was compliant and pliable enough to kneel at Elezibethele's feet and make no attempts to communicate so much as a solitary thought or convey a single word to the guests when they arrived, but this?

This scene is atrocious. Absurd. The interloper is an abomination, a mockery of his kind. Or perhaps he is the paragon of it, if what Elezibethele has told him of humans is correct...

Maybe Elezibethele wasn't manipulating him. Maybe she was being bluntly honest...

Is this how the world is? People cast into the ruts of wagon wheels, drawn under the turning circles of rotund men and women so that the world would or could have a chance at "advancement?" Why? Why would the gods allow this horrendous fate to befall justice-fearing men and women just trying to scrape their way through the drafty corridors life presents? The rough rock walls collapse at some point, but why should the journey be so arduous, tedious, and cruel?

Well, at least this other slave is lucky. He didn't get the full, gory treatment. He wasn't tortured much.

Mine takes solace in that fact. Still, he can't help but show his sympathy for Waterstrider's plight and a blossoming blood-red rose of hatred for the villainous Justin. He asks himself, in his mind, what benefits could intervention in this matter bring? None. He'd merely earn himself a place tacked to the wall beside that sorry creature, and that would do no one any good. Especially if that slave is truly a bodyguard. There is the possibility that this is an embodiment of karma, the wolf-beast receiving appropriate retribution for the blood he has spilled himself.

That didn't add up, though. What good would a damaged bodyguard be to a prodigal son? A paw isn't an expendable item for an "attack pooch." Why cut it off? An ignorant, unyieldingly daft sort of brute illustrating a point, likely. But then, why would the critter, now unfit for the primary purpose it once served, and defiant at that, not be sent straight off to the "knackers" or organ scavengers?

Mine grimaces at that thought. He can't spend even a moment of time looking down on Waterstrider's predicament.

He turns away, opting to glance up at his owner again.

He sincerely hopes that "the scent of blood" won't stir up her hunger again. The last thing he needs is to dine with the master incapable of feeling any remorse or compassion for his fellow sapient beings.

So...

Elezibethele might be right in her rendered judgement and condemnation of human-kind.

It serves this one right. As for the rest...

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[Underside Temple]

But it must be linked to something! Aberrant things such as cannibalism don't go over well at all in the animal kingdom for no good, logical reason. It should, hypothetically, lead to the complete extermination of a species in areas where the dangers of mating with one of them are known and only a couple colonies of the species have gained a foothold.

Driders...hmm...

Would they be affected adversely by certain pesticides as well, seeing as their anatomy and oft'times their epidermal layer match that of common spider fairly closely?

A hint of a snarl overtakes Three's expression at the mention of the slaver who once owned her. She detests that repugnant creature, and has faith in the payment justice extracts on criminals. She envisions him lying, dead, covered in mud from head to toe, in a ditch, fed upon by feral badgers and other scavengers of the wild.

And all at once, Three's expression brightens again, almost as though she had never heard the man's name at all.

Three continues to purr. Methinks she may be a tad too feline in habit to be all human, though her anatomy would suggest otherwise. Three unabashedly blushes!

"Oh, Reverend Mistress. You do me too much honor. I could never amount to anything near the magnificent charmer you are."

A flattery contest! Fun!