Scrap
#1 of Scraps
Just a scrap. IDK if this will materialize.
You tell me.
Kinda influenced by The Elder Scrolls series.
"Prisoner. What are you doing up at this hour, where are your clothes?" A lightly armored guard walked by my cell, led by torchlight. "On your feet."
I covered my breasts, and stood upon being ordered, "Sir, it is too-"
The guard cut me off with his thick accent, "Don't give me that, 'it's too hot,' bullshit. You're a murderer, a goddamn animal. You can sleep fine with murder on your conscience, then you better damn well sleep with the clothes you are provided with. They hardly count as clothes, anyway."
"Yes, sir." I gathered my clothes.
"And if you're trying to seduce me, I'll penetrate you with my blade, slut."
I looked to the stone floor, my ears flattening as his venomous words cut me deeply.
"Now go to sleep, dog." he spat, "Before I have you declawed. Don't want another incident like last time." He smirked, four long scratch-marks were painted upon his neck.
A tear clung to my cheek, dampening my fur and glinting in the firelight.
"Ha! Keep cryin' bitch," he turned, walking away, down the next row of cells, twirling keys in his hand, "it won't get you out of here any sooner."