Plains… They stretched on as far as her eyes could see. Flat horizons with pathetic hills. Similar to the Steppes in some minor ways, the expansiveness yes, but the cold was not as biting as the Northern Steppes that become rocky with strong mountain kings cloaked in pine and snow. There are no trees, no forests with falling gold like in the Western Steppes here. The ground is too hard for the soft and sweet scented grasses of the Eastern Steppes to grow. The Eastern Steppes carved with craggy stones and serpentine rivers that eventually drained into the deserts of the Sand people, near the arid Southern Steppes. The Eastern Steppes had been her favorite. Where the Noble Caravan of Khan generally travelled about hunting wolf and deer until the wet season.<br/><br/>In these Plains there was no sign of game to hunt besides pathetic field animals, and everything was so brown that it seemed like they were never making it anywhere. Just droning on and on… She hadn’t seen a change in color or scenery for miles; like this place was a mirror for her hollow heart. Numb, cold, and dying. She kept thinking back to her last conversation with her brother. Her hands stained with their father’s blood and he standing there, looking clean of spirit but being the one truly stained. He had betrayed her and poisoned the people’s minds. Even their own Father had fallen to the seduction of his tongue in the end!<br/><br/>The looks her people had given her as she was dragged out to be stoned then left tied to a post for the Slavers had hurt more than their physical stone throws. Her pride slowly crumbling the half-year she was transported to different hubs of servitude. Her first owner was a merchant sand man, from Bakh’s land, whom bought her as an exotic toy. She was heavily whipped and sold back into slavery after she turned her Master into an unwilling eunuch within the first night. ((Medieval Chinese style!)) Rumors said she had used her teeth making it hard for Baichu to be sold back into the sex slave market. Some say she had planned it that way. Her second service was to serve some sort of Khoszul man’s wife as maidservant. She convinced the woman within a month that the Khoszul husband was after her body and spent most nights out sleeping around instead of sword training. The wife killed her husband violently in a storm of jealous rage and in the end killed herself without freeing Baichu first, unfortunately.<br/><br/>The third time had been to a handsome Miao man. Someone who Baichu could relate to. He had her break and train his horses which he sold to all types of people. She had sensed no perverted desires in the man and enjoyed working with him. He was generous and kind. She began to forget her plans, her hate, and began to know love. That was when she knew he had to die. There could be nothing in her heart than revenge. She needed to be powerful and unfeeling. Like a grand serpent. She summoned the man to the pasture and had the horse’s trample him. She watched him die, shedding one tear and feeling her heart harden like jade. She stayed on the run for a time but was eventually sold out and arrested as lost property. That was when Baichu Khan started to lose hope and began to despair she’d never accomplish painting herself in her brother’s blood.<br/><br/>Now she trudges along behind the fiery haired one she is beginning to despise. Her hair reminds her of her hatred. The fire that once engulfed her entire being to succeed and be free of man’s impression of women. Now she just wants to forget. To become a husk like a horse that’s been beaten too much and goes to die alone. Her own pretty face hidden behind dirty ebony locks that cascade down in knotty brambles to her too thin waist and protruding bony hips. They stop and she stalls. Whoever behind her bumps into her and she gives a feral noise but doesn’t turn to look. She was never one to look back, always ahead. They sit in the dirt and she kneads at her calloused feet with weapon worn hands. Absently studying each guard and what he says like a he’s one of her old research specimens. When the waterskin arrives to her she grasps at the ladle and says softly in a raspy voice before drinking. “Sage oil. I can make some.”<br/><br/>“What scum?”<br/><br/>The guard says raising an eyebrow taking the ladle back and the Miao woman speaks. “For your bad knee which is sore after riding, yes? Rub sage oil I make into the knee. It will rid you of the pain. Good for horse hoof too.” She breaks up her speak and keeps her accent thick. Making her seem wiser in her foreign ways. He blinks and goes into thought, unconsciously giving the woman another ladle of water to which she grins and takes to drink. "Yeah. Yeah you do that next time we get a chance." She nods calculating what kinds of herbs she'll be able to get access to and what information she could gather to gain an advantage when they felt at ease around her. For each guard who comes during breaks to her, Baichu gives some sort of advice and always gains an extra bit of luxury for it. Unaware that she’s trying desperately to live despite wanting to die. She lets the guard leave and looks to the mousey slave driver. The fallen Miao noble's wiry muscles twitch over her hungry frame in a jerk action as she imagines separating his head from his body and being free. She quashes that spirited speculation immediately and focuses it instead on wondering who he could be waiting for. If they would have many horses and if she'd get to touch them. '<span style="font-style: italic"> It wouldn't take much for all these slaves to rebel and beat these few guards while sitting here... But most lack the spines for it. Men are so weak-willed, these guards would break like tea-stalks if hit just right, and they fall prey to trickery so easily! But I doubt these slaves would follow me.  </span>' She sighed, her hope crumbling even further away. Maybe she'd try to escape again at the next Masters place.... After she killed them.