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Three: Wounds

Slagar had stepped into a nightmare early the next morning, at least his mind had pulled up a memory he had wished to forget and once more he was walking through Cluny's camp, biting down the urge to grasp his mother's paw for protection. He remembered watching the lustful eyes beings had given his mother and even himself as they'd past through the dangerous individuals. He'd heard the weeping of female animals being used brutally, some of their screams and the few sounds of pleasure from those females used to such a harsh lifestyle. His mother had silenced all his concerns and his upsets through her fear that neither of them would survive this, she'd been right and all Slagar could see in his mind was the shining fangs of that wretched black sea rat!

He opened his eyes in surprise to the light and to the curious sensations around his body. Slagar's eyes opened against the golden ears of the vixen and he found himself giving a moan of pleasure at the sensation against his face. That vixen was licking his wounds again, his bad eye and patting his shoulder to comfort him. Startled by this affection and the fact that an adult like he should require it, Slagar kicked outwards and Layla landed slap onto the ground with a bark of pain. Slagar then leapt off the bed with a vicious snarl and to his surprise the black vixen leapt under the bed so that he could not beat her so easily.

"Lost the fire you had yesterday? Stupid female... you NEVER touch my face!" Slagar hissed, only to be startled as the vixen lifted up his hood from the floor as if trying to apologise. Slagar rubbed his head gently in confusion before shaking his head and he was about to put his hood on when he realised that there was a tingling sensation on his wound and that there was a strange smell in the air. When he looked at the vixen again, he noticed she was chewing at some smelly plants and straight away Slagar gave an aggressive snort. "What on earth have you done?"

"Paste... takes away pain and cleans wound. Won't make fur grow, but eye won't rot." The vixen snorted gently underneath the bed and Slagar put his hood back onto the bed. With a gentle grumble he hooked the chain still attached to one of the vixen's ankles and pulled her out with a few gentle tugs. He looked to her wounded ankle but was startled to realise she'd already sorted herself out, obviously she'd been awake longer then he had been. Something on the vixen's face startled Slagar and he swore as she asked and unfortunate question. "Your mother was killed?"

"What about it? Everyone who was involved in the wars with Cluny the Scourge or half the beasts in this land have experienced something like that. Now... come out and let's go get some food together. Just keep your mouth shut Layla, do what I say and no one will hurt you." Slagar grunted gently as he then grabbed the hood and stuffed it on. He couldn't think why he had wanted to keep it off but perhaps it was something to do with Layla's paste, for once his face did not seem to be stinging and the remnant of the year's flies were not buzzing at him.

Layla stood herself up and then swiftly straightened her shirt and her slacks, before dusting them off and standing in front of Slagar for an inspection. Her intelligence and willingness to do as he said was confusing to Slagar, but then again he was not being as cruel to her as he had the possibility to be and she obviously appreciated it. Slagar then found his eyes running over her form and was startled that the vixen was not a skinny little thing like the mink and ermine dancers but rather... well there was flesh over each curve and it was surprisingly exciting to see a somewhat plumper vixen then he was used to. As he looked her up and down however, Layla was picking up his thoughts and began to curl her lips and growl at him, so Slagar just grasped her wrist and swiftly put a manacle on her, despite her sudden bark and jerked her out of the tent.

The feeding station for the camping slavers was no different this winter then it had been last winter, with the great tables set up and the servant animals of Black Eye were spooning out porridge to feed everyone. There were only really the vermin masters at the tables but their slaves and servants were on hand to be fed after their owners, which Slagar knew was going to be a problem for him and Layla. Thankfully he decided that the easiest way to deal with anything was to get the food, eat it away from the others, then feed Layla and then go on his usual walk. He expected to be talked to or bothered by Black Eye's family, but none of them were about and neither were the majority of males that had witnessed the dancing last night so getting breakfast turned out to be easy and then Slagar returned to his tent.

"I am going for a walk, you're going to stay here and keep your mouth shut until I return. Got it?" Slagar barked and Layla nodded her head, seemingly content for having some hot food in her belly. She willingly sat on his bed and Slagar stared at her in confusion... should he throw her off and snap at her or not? Slagar shook his head gently and then attached her chains again before lifting his head to come face to face with her. He was about to threaten her and make a point of being the boss when she kissed his paw and then pressed it to her forehead. "What?"

"Slagar is not being cruel for being cruel... Layla respect him." She smiled gently before sitting down patiently and closing her eyes. Slagar just shook his head in even more confusion before stepping out for his walk. Just what was he supposed to do with her anyway? He was wintering here, not slaving and so she was just a burden, like some retarded little sister that he had to take care of because she couldn't be alone for ten minutes! Slagar shook his body roughly before stomping off and hoping to engage in a pleasant walk.

* * * * *

Layla was quiet as she watched Slagar leave but her mind was ticking away with suggestions of what to do. Slagar could be a seriously dangerous creature to fight and he seemed much more willing to abandon her then to keep her as his property. Intelligent as she was, Layla was also quite frightened of her situation and she understood that there was no chance of fleeing the camp unless she could find somewhere suitable to go that could get her close enough to the sea. Her best chance was to be taken about by the slavers and brought close enough to water where she could follow it out to the great salty waters and build some sort of boat across. But the idea of following any slave trader was infuriating and terrifying and once more she concluded that Slagar was still her safest bet. The only way to get him to trust her enough to let her follow would obviously be through good behaviour... and surely it was better for a fox to own another fox then for her to be owned by that malicious stoat again?

Layla pondered for a while upon the floor of the tent before she noticed how scruffy looking the arrangement was. She'd only been with Slagar the one night and he'd only been in this tent for that time, so why did it look so worn and mangled? Snorting and shaking her head, Layla quickly formulated that there could only be innocence on her part if she cleaned up the place whilst Slagar was out and he did not approve. It was an odd conclusion and a risky decision to think on, but Layla knew that she could use that time to look for a map and her best way out of this place. She knew though that Slagar was too crafty to leave the key to her chains about, plus running was not going to get her far with a sore ankle.

So for an hour or so, Layla sorted out books and boxes with curious items in and identified anything she could do to ease the transition of time before spring or keep Slagar occupied. She'd already figured out his herb box and knew very well not to touch it again, just in case there was something deadly in there like Wolf's Bane! She had found very few maps however and most were just local sections of woodland around Mossflower, hinting that Slagar expected people to rifle through his possessions. That thought put Layla on edge however and she began to flick her ears back and forth to check if there was someone spying on her. But there was only silence and, after locating clothing that needed fixing and the items to do it with, Layla slumped herself onto Slagar's bunk and began to work away. Her isolation however was soon interrupted by the arrival of the one beast in the camp she did not want to see and straightaway her ears went back with a snarl.

"Little Ebony bitch... you've already decided you like Slagar huh? Typical of you foxes to stick together! But I know more about that half-eaten wretch then you do and he's not going to be back for at least another hour..." The threat was evident and suddenly Layla was aware that the length of her chain was not enough for her to keep away from the stoat indefinitely and that her only weapon was a blunted needle in her paws. No sooner had Snowspit stated his intent then he lunged forward and grasped Layla by the tail, pulling her clumsily off the bed and onto her back on the floor. He kept hold of her tail as she writhed and snarled at him before catching his face in a neat scratch as he took one of Slagar's hoods from her pile of sewing work.

"MASTER! SLAGA-" Layla had began to bark but her muzzle was grasped firmly and the stoat sat upon her, keeping her still as he wound the silken sheet tightly about her muzzle to the point she was struggling to breathe. As she began to gasp, panic would have taken over but Layla was aware of her danger and so relaxed her body to maintain her breath, but this was what the stoat had wanted her to do! If she struggled, Layla would suffocate to death and despite how horribly humiliated she would be... Layla did not want to die like this!

Snowspit was startled by the way she suddenly relaxed and, though he did not want to kill her and spoil the fun he hoped to gain for whatever sick plan existed in his mind, Snowspit was angry. He did not want Slagar to be the one to break this vixen but in many ways he did... but at the same time he wanted to damage the vixen enough that others might notice a change and think the fox was a lunatic. Snowspit's mind was reeling with confusion as to his own goals in the matter but the most prominent goal in his mind was to take away the vixen's chastity so that Slagar would not have the satisfaction and so that the vixen would be damaged.

Layla was feeling dizzy already, her inhales forcing her to suck the cloth and any sudden gasp she knew could choke her... the only way to survive was to relax and not to fight although she couldn't stop tears falling from her eyes. Although the event was fast and viciously painful, to Layla everything seemed in slow motion as she controlled her breathing to prevent death and give the stoat no pleasure in seeing her struggle. She accepted him pulling her borrowed trousers down, she kept her eyes closed as his tongue seemed to stroll around her chin like a tentacle and tried not to retch at the sensation of his sticky saliva as he pulled the tunic up.

Snowspit could not help himself but lick at every part of her body he could get his tongue around although his drool seemed never ending. He fixated upon a pretty pink nipple and suckled it briefly, just enough to ensure that his penis was hard and he was fully excited. When he realised she was not fighting he dared to bite her fiercely with his sharp teeth, his body hooking around her and his hot dick slapping gently against the top of her slit. When Layla tried to scream for the pain she sucked in the cloth and seemed to choke, her body arched forward and Snowspit used it to stab himself into her as deeply and as harshly as he could. He felt his long shaft almost slice into her and the smell of blood spilling down from the great tear he'd produced inside the vixen made him grin. Then he began to rock himself back and forth inside her tight, bloody tunnel before getting so frustrated for a need to hurt her in a new way that he grasped her non-bitten breast and forced his mouth around it, practically chewing at it as she seemed to buck and struggle beneath him despite her efforts to keep her breathing under control.

But the lack of oxygen took over as he continued to pump himself into her body, no matter how tight and unwilling it was to let him continue. Starting to black out and become limp as she believed that she might just die, Layla swung out with the paw holding the needle and stabbed his shoulder. He screamed but that was all she remembered as she fainted and remained unconscious, the only way to save some air. But though Snowspit swore and hissed for the searing pain in his shoulder, he was not going to stop and continued to pump into her savaged gash, now slick and easy to slip into if only for the amount of blood that was still flowing out of it. Eventually Snowspit released himself into the vixen's seemingly dead body before standing up and pulling the needle out of his shoulder. He then wiped himself clean on another of Slagar's masks before sneaking out along with any trace of who it was.

He could have grinned and cheered or whistled to himself to know that he had despoiled the only personal slave of Slagar as well as the bitch that had not obeyed him before. But though the stoat was eager not to get found out in case Slagar swung his bolas and throttled him, or in case Black Eye got pissed and ripped his tail off... Snowspit wanted to know what would happen. With his strange ego, distaste for the fox's wound and yet unnerving fascination with him, the stoat found a place to hang around to find out what would happen next.

Within his degenerate mind, the stoat wanted to see everything Slagar did with this vixen. He wanted to see the fox care for her so that he could claim him weak, he wanted to see the fox strangle her so that he would be considered an idiot, he wanted to see the fox ignore her completely in such a presentation so he could reignite the rumours that Slagar's interest, in all things, lay with children. But most of all, perhaps because he was wishing for it secretly as he located a thick deal of cover where he could lie and look straight into a gap in the tent fabric... Snowspit wanted Slagar to do what he'd done. He wanted, though it sickened him to know he was excited by the thought and had to remind himself that it was for the sake of being cruel, the stoat wanted to see Slagar touch and perhaps even taste the stoat's spray upon the vixen.

* * * * *

Usually Slagar insisted on taking a very long walk that would take him to an area near the stream where he collected the herbs needed for his usual skin paste, but today he was not so sure. With Layla's unusual manner of assisting him there seemed little point to make the paste in secrecy and clean his wounds... but he would still look at them. For some reason Slagar could not explain, the way in which the surface of the water rippled and waved made it more bearable to look at his injury then in a mirror. There was always perhaps the thought in his head that a mirror made of water was skewed and wrong in some way; now as he looked at the purple and pink flesh he noted the usual red shade he would apply the mix to was gone and that the purple did not seem as pronounced as usual. Slagar shook his head gently in astonishment before cupping his image in the water and splashing the liquid over his face to refresh himself.

There was a lot of thinking for him to do, mainly about how to deal with that female fox! He'd already guessed that she was a lot smarter then Snowspit had assumed and Slagar was already aware that she was not used to being away from home. But she was a good healer with interestingly different ways of dealing with his wounds and it impressed him... perhaps also, because his beloved mother had been a healer too and forced to work in such horrible times, Slagar felt he could not just sell her on to someone. This presented a different kind of problem however, as he thought about it, because there was an awful standard of expectation for a slave and his master that Slagar understood had to occur in order for the other slavers not to touch his property. It was almost an unwritten rule and Slagar had stuck with capturing children to make sure he would never have to indulge such actions.

He would be expected to 'test the merchandise', to have sex with or even rape the vixen so that the others might not touch her or question whether she was worth it. A virgin animal was valuable and anyone would try to steal her away, but as Slagar did not want to sell her he found it difficult to think of her being exchanged for money. Shaking his head viciously Slagar stood up and snarled at his ugly form in the water that snarled back at him.

"What kind of female would let me touch them without force?" He growled angrily and the memory of that damn snake slithered into his mind. The fox shook himself again, then turned on his heel, put the mask back on and then began to march on a longer course. He needed more time to think, more time to decide what he was going to do with Layla that would mean he could show Black Eye and Snowspit he was a proper male. After all that was what it was all about, they wanted to see if he would be forced to rape a female rather then seduce them! They thought he was just as vile!

As Slagar strolled back up the hill after a long walk about the water ways, his nostrils began to quiver with an unusual scent. It was noticed by many other slavers, who drooled at the smell and Slagar recognised it as blood. No... that was the blood of a virgin who'd just received her master's pride and had not wanted it. The smell was so familiar that it excited many of the slavers and yet Slagar did not like it at all. It was just a reminder of what he needed to do still and it was only as he strolled toward his more isolated tent that the scent became stronger and he noticed Black Eye and his family bustled inside.

"Black Eye? What's going on?" Slagar snarled angrily as he stepped into the tent with a scowl and then spotted the mess upon the floor. The sight of blood, humiliation and the kind of vision he'd seen in Cluny's campy made his bad eye throb. He grasped the side of his head, feeling dizzy and frustrated as memories of Cluny's men, his wrath and the pikes that had slain his mother flooded his mind. Slagar swore allowed and said a few words of disgust but made sure they were generic enough to look toward the mess in the floor and the trouble it was causing him. But then he looked at Layla as she began to gasp on the floor and stretch out with her paw. "Any idea who touched my property and should have an eye removed?"

"I've got some ideas... but nothing I could say aloud and feel confident about. Eh... we'll clean her up and sort out her wounds for you." Black Eye snorted, his fur bristling and buffing up to show his frustration and upset. It had been a good decade since any idiot had done something so stupid as to mess with the property of another slaver. Black Eye had guessed already that Snowspit was the culprit, so he wanted to scupper the situation and prevent a fight before it happened. What bother Black Eye the most however was that Slagar should have been the one to take the vixen's virginity.

"Clean her up... but I'll deal with her wounds. No one but myself can touch her body again." Slagar hissed in anger, although he did not know what he could do to help her now.