Celia bumped dully down the stairs after him.<span style="font-style: italic">Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Jeeze. How many poor dabs does he have in here, anyway?</span><br/><br/>She was tossed into a cage haphazardly, but managed to fold her legs in with surprising grace. She looked around, eyes falling on the woman who occupied the cage alongside her, "Well."<br/><br/>Now that her eyes were adjusting, she could make out the forms of several other girls.<span style="font-style: italic">Ah, so he is a slave trader. With his lousy form, I was beginning to wonder... Must just be me, then.</span>Celia rubbed her wrists where the ropes had dug in, and rolled out the kinks in her shoulders. She'd be sore, but she'd already decided that the more pain this man put her through, the more of a thorn in his side she was going to become.<br/><br/>Once more she turned to her cellmate, "I suppose I could consider this something of an improvement. Company's better, anyway." She settled back against the wall, making herself as comfortable as she could under the given circumstances. It would be a long night, but she'd make it an even longer day for that dunce of a slave trader.