In Dire Straits

The delight of mornings when one's a pup is waking up to your mother brinking home a nice warm meal to fill the belly. The best part being the warm blood as it oozes down your throat as you lick up that iron rich blood. The deceases animal didn't need it anymore so why let the red liquid go to waste when you could use it to fuel your own body. It's flesh and muscle filling your body, making you even stronger. Strong enough to live another day rather then being like the deceased and have your life ended by something stronger then you.

When your an adult, you don't get that luxary. You don't get to have breakfast in bed anymore or think about the constant food that your parents brought you. You had to do all of the work yourself, rather you succeeded or failed was up to you and your power. If you're not good enough, you starve. If you're good enough, you'll eat. It's now life works. The strong breed and create more strong creatures, while the weak parish. Sometimes at the paw of the strong, sometimes in a blazing fire in the tar pits. How Karma pictures her life ending? She doesn't know, she's one of the strong that are only getting stronger.

She licked her lips, saturated with the blood of her breakfast. At the moment, Karma was a weak, only able to accept food offerings off of the officers that she had wrapped around her paws. Most bringing her small useless left overs, but some, if Karma was lucky. Was an actual meal that could fill her belly with the warmness she called satisfaction. An today, was one of those days.
The officer, what was his name, Clyde. Had left Karma a little gift by the lake for her. So, when she was allowed out for some water, she was able to eat and didn't have to fight any of the other slaves for it. She had already lost some fur on her tail because of a naughty slave, and that put her in a sour mood for a while before she managed to get a good tear off of it's ear when it wasn't looking.

Confidence filled the tri-colored woman as she laid in the moonlight by the water eating her kill. It seemed that she was starting to get used to this little situation she had gotten herself into. She's going to have a lot of fun tearing things up once she's let into the rest of the pack land and isn't being looked after by big brutes that don't know what hit them half of the time.
Licking her lips, Karma turned her head slightly as a familiar scent filled her nose. A playful smile appearing on her lips. "Oh, Sweet-cheeks." She said in a sickingly sweet voice. "Did you miss me? It's only been a day." She continued in her sweet voice, making sure to sound a little whiny as well just to try and get him annoyed. "Are you here to try and drown me?" She asked, tilting her head to the side as she stretched out on her stomach and had her legs sprawled out behind her as she stretched. Then just relaxed in that position as she looked at the large grey male with innocent eyes. Her meal pushed to the side and forgotten, her sweet-cheeks was much more interesting.

  He's not a leader. No strategist, nor mind for logistics-- he has ambition, but his goals are nebulous, and he never really goes anywhere. Garrison is content to bark orders at heathens and subjugate trespassers into slaves for the rest of his days, with a tidy little house, and nothing better to do than watch Karma from wherever the Officer rests his hide.

  Karma is a clever bitch, cunning enough to garner favours from sadists, but she still doesn't know all her rebellion and cloying compliments are playing straight into his maw. She's not his first slave turned-- but she might be the first he keeps.

  She means to embarrass him with the comment, like she expects it to be shameful that he follows her every move. "One day too long, Babygirl." She won't be able to breathe without him knowing.

  "Are you here to try and drown me?"

  "Just.admiring the view," the Fringe Dire deflects, thumping down before her, "and what do you mean try?"

  There's a flash behind his eyes-- Karma's bangs waving in the water, burst capillaries bleeding green eyes red-- and he only smiles. If he really forced her head under, how long would it take the panic to kill that sly spirit?

  Garris doesn't want it dead, though. If all goes well, he can nurture her honey into mead. Get the whole pack drunk.

  "Good news, Babygirl," he relays with a face that makes it obvious the news is not good for her in the slightest, "guess who just got his first bond?"

  Garrison isn't sure if the Priests have been slacking-- or just lacking-- but he explains the situation in detail. Her situation. Their situation. "It's me, if that wasn't obvious. See, Karma, I have a house now, and you, being a slave, need a master."

  His grin is positively noxious. "Welcome to the House of Garrison, Babygirl. You're all mine from now on."

  Against all odds, that reaction is exactly what he was hoping for. She's been too nice; Karma's started to bore him, thinking "Sweet Cheeks" all wrapped up in her pretty fur. This is good. Nothing would be more disappointing than ending this game early.

  Oh, he could practically see the gears grinding in her mind. It's just so sadistically satisfying. And when she asks the point-- his smile stretches until the lines on his cheeks wrinkle. "Because, Babygirl." Because she's too pretty to waste in the pits, too clever to die for sport. "The more I have, the better it makes me look." The better it is for all of them. He leans in, until his breath hits her nose-- too close, like he's done before, just to piss her off. "Because I told you you're mine, and now it's all official."

  She's already formulating a way out, but he saw that same look when he grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her in to Oukoku-Kai. She'll get used to this, too.

  She licks her nose, and Garrison snickers. He listens to her description of disembowelment (which is something this conversation has really put him in the mood for) and dare him for death. Oh, no no. Too easy.

  Garrison holds her gaze with a grin for a long moment, while he fantasizes about running something right through her ribcage. "You're a slave, remember? You don't get a choice. In anything." He stands, then. Glares out over the water while a lip curls. "That doesn't change until you get a master to back it, and pretty won't get you any higher than housepet around here."

  The dire wolf rounds her, standing between her and the sparkle of water that has her so distracted. This is too important to miss. "You could be so much more than a den dressing, and I'm the only one that's noticed. Take it or get killed."