The blazing noon sun on the scorching hot sand made the dry heat of the desert even more unbearable. He may have had white fur to reflect the sun's rays but his thick under coat was not helping. Hybrin would much rather be on the slopes of snow-capped mountains then traveling down a desert road with the guild's southern chapter.

The caravan of fifty or so members had come to a stop, and the dry heat was starting to take it's tole on the white wolf. Looking around Hybrin could see nothing but desert surrounding them. Curious to why they stopped he adjusted the cloth over his muzzle and stood in his stirrups. Glancing ahead he could see an object lying in the road a ways ahead of the travelers. Settling back in the saddle he directed his steed to the front of the caravan. As he got closer he could make out the square shape of a steel cage, and a few members of the southern guild mending their wounds. Coming up beside Zamier, the leader of the southern chapter, he caught the painted dog's lazy gray eyes.

“It's a slave cage.” Zamier informed Hybrin, while watching his men cautiously move closer to the cage. “What ever is in there, it's desperate and attacking anyone who gets near.” He met Hybrin's ice cold gaze. Dismounting their thaluks, a front heavy bulk of a beast, Hybrin and Zamier walked over to one of the men observing the cage.

The man took a moment and bowed slightly to Zamier before he spoke.“Sir, there don't seem to be any brands of ownership.”

“It must have fallen off a slave trader's wagon then.” Zamier surmised.

Hybrin knelt next to the cage peering inside shocked by the sight that greeted him. Lying against the bars that made up the side of the cage was a young feline. Everything about her showed that she had been there for a while. Glazed clear blue eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the cage. Gray and black tipped ears lay flat in distress against a matted head of tangled violet hair. Her gray and black stripped pelt stretched thin over her protruding ribs. Her side rose and fell with each ragged breath she took. Her lips were thin and wrinkled a clear sign of dehydration.

Like a shot Hybrin watched the emaciated cat throw herself against the door of the cage in front of him. Her crazed blue eyes met his. Hybrin felt it deep in his gut, a small feeling of pity was welling inside him. The sensation was foreign to him as he had learned over the years to steel his emotions. Yet now he found it hard to shun the feelings away. He did feel sorry for the poor girl slowly withering away out in the unforgiving desert sun. As he wondered what the poor feline had gone through in the past few days he almost missed the razor sharp claws aimed for his face. The cat's claws came inches away from Hybrin's black nose. He watched calmly as the creature he mistakenly took pity on a moment ago continued to swiping madly at his muzzle.

Zamier, the leader of the caravan, came to Hybrin's side at hearing the ruckus. He watched the cat flail about before she fell limp against the rails of the cage. “She's on the verge of death. Poor thing...” Turning to the rest of the caravan he called out to his men. “Amiese, bring your spear, and take care of this.” Turning back to Hybrin he placed his hand on the white wolf's shoulder reassuringly. “It would be best that we put her out of her misery.”

Hybrin grasped the shaft of Amiese's spear just before the dog was able to deliver a killing blow to the emaciated cat's heart. “...I'll take responsibility for her.”

Zamier looked disapprovingly at the caged feline. “We cannot go around picking up strays.”

“Then she will be my slave.” He said, releasing his hold on the spear. Taking out his water pouch Hybrin brought it to the felines lips pouring it's contents into her unsuspecting mouth.

The cat began to sputter and cough as most of the water dribbled down her chin. She had not expected the cool rush of water to wash so suddenly down her gullet. Licking her lips she realized instantly what the refreshing liquid on her lips was and grasped for the pouch desperately. Grasping Hybrin's hand she pulled the opening of the container to her mouth and sucked greedily from its confines.

Hybrin chuckled as he watched her hungrily gulping down the water. Slowly he pulled the pouch away. “That's enough now, you'll make yourself sick.” A smirk graced his lips as the feline mewed pitifully and reached for the water he held. Turning to Zamier he asked, “is there room on the wagon for the cage?”

Zamier scratched his head, looking back into the crowd he mentally estimated the size of the cage and the wagon. “Maybe not enough for the cage, but there should be room in there for her.”

“We'll need rope to bind her so she doesn't escape...” Hybrin glanced back to the cage's occupant only to find her unconscious against it's confines. Reaching to his belt he took out a ring of lock picks and began working on the steel lock on the cage door.

Hybrin placed the slumbering feline in the back of the caravan's wagon. Taking a blanket he covered her to keep her out of the sun.

Zamier rode up beside him. “With this distraction we won't make it to town by nightfall.”

Hybrin called back to him. “Then we will have to camp out another night.” Leaving his new slave behind he mounted up and waited for Zamier's word to start moving again.

“Forward” Zamier bellowed, and with that the travelers were off again. Zamier slowed until he was riding beside Hybrin. “You know, if she causes us any trouble I will have to have her killed.”

In a voice void of emotion Hybrin replied. “If she does so, then I will have no problems doing it myself.”

As night fell on the caravan's encampment Hybrin spent the twilight hours in his tent watching the bound and slumbering feline on the floor of his tent. A slight movement caught his eye, and he observed as the rescued feline began to stir awake.

The first thing she noticed was that she was alive. The second thing was that she was laying on something soft. Not the hard steel rods that made up the cage. The next thing she noticed was that she was bound at the ankles and wrists. She began to struggle against her bonds when she noticed something else. She wasn't alone...

Hybrin watched the slave girl trying to test the limits of her restraints. Having none of that he spoke up. “Know here and now that I hold your life in my paws. From this point on you belong to me.” Standing he walked around her still figure on the floor. His black pads not making a sound as he stalked around her. He padded around to come face to face with those dazzling blue eyes he had made the mistake of taking pity on. “You have caused us a great deal of trouble by having me barter for your life. Know that if you do anything to endanger us I will not hesitate to kill you.”

The feline's eyes darted away and Hybrin could tell that she was taking in her predicament. “You will stay bound until I can figure out what you're useful for.”

“I'm a slave.” She spoke, the shallow rasp of her horas voice coming as a surprise to her own ears. “What do you think I am useful for?”

Hybrin took a deep breath. He had not expected such a blunt question. “...I do not presume to make assumptions about people. Rather I observe them, learn the facts about who they are.”

She stared down the white wolf in front of her from her place on the floor. “What do your observations say about me?”

“Your paws don't appear to have any callouses on them. So I assume you were not a slave for labor.” He leaned back against his desk. “You were of average weight considering the sagging of your skin. No muscle tone. So you were not meant for house work. You were healthy. Either someone took great care to keep you that way, or you have an impeccable immunity to illness.” He bit his tongue not really wanting to speak his next thought. “Based on all of that, and the fact you were found nude, I am left to believe that you are a bedroom slave.” Sex slave, concubine, courtesan, kept woman, mistress- going through all the names he knew for it he nearly shuddered. He prided himself on his ability to make it sound cleaner then what it really was.

Anger flashed in her clear blue eyes. “Have you thought that I might be new to my slavery?”

His eyes narrowed, it would make since. She had a fire in here that he had not seen in any owned slave. Slaves new to the trade often times are defiant where experienced slaves are trained to have a mild demeanor. They learn that their role is to be seen but not heard. “The thought had crossed my mind. Have you no experience in slavery then?”

“No. I've been haggled for.” She stated as a matter of fact.

“You have been trained but not sold...” He pursed his bottom lip, thinking about that. Why hadn't anyone bought her? His eyes roamed over her withered body, trying to picture what she would have looked like when she was filled out and healthy. She would have had a nice hourglass figure based on the span of her hips. Her bright hair would have been wavy and down to her shoulders instead of the matted mop clumped at the base of her neck. Her eyes; the thing that would have captivated any potential buyer, were clear and expressive. She had a fire in her unlike that of any slave he had seen before. Perhaps that was it. Slave buyers normally settled for slaves that had already been broken in by their traders. This cat had far to much spirit still.

“Would you let yourself to be sold to just anyone?” The feline asked smugly.

The question struck Hybrin as amusing. His own services were also for sale to the highest bidder. He gave the feline a knowing smile. “Depends.”

She froze, studying him with a wary gaze. She hadn't expected an answer, much less that one. Studying the wolf more closely she tried to determine whether he was making a joke. The sly smile and look in his eye told her that he wasn't. This wolf was beginning to unsettle her deep inside. She told herself to keep on her toes with him, or he very well could make good on his earlier threats.

“Do you have a name? Or do I have to make one up for you?”

The question snapped her out of her observations. She considered for a moment making a sly joke about her name being for her to know, but she decided against it. After all she was still unaware of what this wolf was capable of. She was the one still bound and he was the one who saved her life. If he wanted to rape and kill her she was sure there was nothing that would have stopped him from already doing so. He surely would have passed on all the pleasantries. “Preza...like the Prezarian springs.”

Hybrin remembered hearing about the mystic purple pools of the Prezarian springs. Roaming bards would sing songs of their mysterious color and powers. Mages often used water from the springs for potions. With her bright violet hair and piercing blue eyes the name suited her well.

Preza swallowed, leery of the answer to her next question. “What are you going to do with me?”

Hybrin thought for a moment, unsure of the answer she was seeking. Perhaps it was best to be honest, “...I haven't figured it out yet. For now I'm going to get you better. Maybe I'll make you my personal slave.” He smiled eerily at her, enjoying watching as she squirmed uneasily in her ropes. He snapped his fingers and three women walked into the tent. “First we are going to get you clean. No one here will tolerate a filthy wretch in their presence.” Turning to the women he nodded. “The ropes stay on.”

The elder of the three women nodded in return handing Hybrin a worn water pouch. “Yes sir.”

Hybrin took the pouch. Plucking some berries from a bowl atop his desk he squeezed the nutritious juices from the fruit into the pouch, dropping the berries one after another into the water. He handed the pouch back to the painted dog. “In case she asks for food, or something to drink.”

Taking the water pouch back the woman smiled. “We'll take good care of her.”