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Mumbling to himself as he strode about the dens the thralls shared, Karta kept a close eye out for anyone who looked brawny enough to tend to the duties they'd be faced with.
Someone meek would be good, because Karta did not want to have to punish a thrall more than was necessary. Perhaps he would be lucky and find someone like Neska, and for a brief moment Karta wondered why his father had not supplied his children with thralls.
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There was a constant ebb and flow of freeborn lions through the thrall's sector of the pride, and Kardas had gotten pretty good at finding the best places to hide from their sight. It was not such a difficult thing to do, really. He had only to remain unseen until later in the evening, which was when he usually tended to anything he needed to accomplish.
It was sad, then, that luck would not be on his side this day.
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Grunting softly, Karta swatted at the white-tufted tail.
"You there. Step out."
He hoped he was doing this whole thing correctly. Karta had never been comfortable ordering thralls about. He actually much preferred to tend to his own duties, but after his discussion with Myka, well...
"Step out, I say!"
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With a low growl, Kardas backed out of the small hidey-hole he'd taken up in, turning about to face the lion who had demanded he step out of the cramped storage area that he'd been hiding in.
"Yes?"
He tried to sound respectful, but he came across as only sounding utterly peeved.
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"Who do you.. who owns you?"
Yes, that seemed a good way to begin. It was always important to find out if prospective thralls belonged to anyone else. He couldn't properly lay claim to a thrall that called another master, and that would be a massive waste of his own time. He briefly thought about all the mud that needed making, and suddenly it seemed rather pressing that he stop wasting time and start moving things along.
"Answer, thrall."
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"Well, I was brought back to the pride by Captain Ru, but as to who owns me right and proper, I'll have to answer that with a loud and resounding <******** he was being a little too crass, but Kardas didn't care. This bumbling babbling fool would probably be direly offended by his words, and all for the better. Naptime was calling Kardas, and it was a pressing need indeed.
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"Excellent. Your name, then, and come now, follow me. I'll have use of you this day. We've plenty of mud to make, plenty of dirt to haul. It's a busy day ahead of us, thrall, and we won't be sleeping until everything is done."
Karta took a few steps before he paused and glanced back, eyebrows lifting expectantly.
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"Kardas," he snarled softly, following after the lion. ********, that's what this ways, and the complete opposite way he'd wanted to spend his day. Mud? Dirt? Disobeying meant that he'd likely face punishment, and he'd seen proof of Kjar's art. He hadn't been in the pride too long, but he knew the look of a broken thrall when he saw one, and Kardas had little interest in such things.
Mud and dirt, ********. Why couldn't he have been found by a poet or some nancy freeborn b***h? Why this guy? It really was just his luck, and Kardas felt his mood immediately turning southward.
He was hard-pressed to keep his mouth shut.
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It sounded like a pretty sweet deal to Karta, all things considered. In truth, any thrall would be lucky to have such a master.
"I will not beat you, but you will obey me. It will be a simple arrangement, and I'd like to think that perhaps we can become friends."
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"Yes, sir."
He would just have to bide his time and see how things turned out. Perhaps this would be a welcome change from the way things had been, or perhaps this would be the worst thing to have ever happened to him. Time would tell, but for now Kardas followed behind Karta, a slight smile upon his lips.
Maybe this wouldn't be half-bad, after all.