<div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e327/steusloffa/Junk/a3e78b33-5cae-43cf-bca0-7bdc0488116b_zpskyozpugo.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://i42.photobucket.com/albums/e327/steusloffa/Junk/cooltext117506316786206_zpsnqy2zyuh.png">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/>Orca's bitter words may have stung a bit, but what else could you expect from someone who had been sold into slavery for most of their life? At times, the young creature felt as if bitterness and anger were the only emotions he had left, as all the others were beaten out of him.<span style="font-weight: bold">"I guess you could make for a fine exotic pet; I suspect you will elevate my status in certain circles--but you aren't nearly as good for my reputation and standing in the communities I value...and you certainly would be a wonderful guard and protector. A true loyal...pet,"</span>Paislee's words were dripping with sarcasm and it was more than apparent that perhaps she was offended by Orca's bitter questions.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Alas, that is not why I bought you...I bought you because Marqu Claros had his eye on you. I'm not particularly fond of Marqu. I guess I bought you as petty revenge,"</span>she replied, averting her eyes back to her bowl.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"Who was your last owner? Certainly not the auctioneer...?"</span>Paislee asked before picking at her food once more, taking a bite here and there before returning her eyes to Orca. It was obvious that the young creature was hung up over something Paislee had said before, a look of agitation painted on his face. Orca obviously didn't appreciate her sarcasm, yet he did vaguely understand the meaning of her words, or at least that she had no intention of being like his previous owners. A small shiver ran down his spine when he thought of them. Each had their own form of torture, though his most recent owner wasn't the worst of them, he was still terrible in his own way.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"You know, it always starts a little like this."</span>Orca said in a calm, but cold tone. His lyrical voice carrying his words in a way that no human ever could.<span style="font-weight: bold">"First, they clean you up and inspect you. They tend to your injuries so that you can heal quickly."</span>A spoon-full of broth and meat enters his mouth, eyes still glued to Paislee.<span style="font-weight: bold">"Then comes the words of how your life will be different. Some claim to be different than the others, spinning tales of how they will treat you well. They even give you a nice meal to start out, leading you to feel like maybe their words are not just lies... But they are."</span>Orca clenched his teeth a little, a small hiss escaping through his teeth. The corners of his lips begin to pull up into a snarl, his spoon dropping to the floor as he rises to his feet, gripping the edges of an old wooden table.<br/><br/>His azure gaze burned into the young woman as he spoke, the rage in his voice growing with every word.<span style="font-weight: bold">"And just when you think that maybe your life could change, they show their true nature."</span>The young man was now on his feet, leaning forward over the table with his gaze locked into Paislee's.<span style="font-weight: bold">"They all have their own method to their madness, but the end results are almost always the same. You end up with bits of missing flesh, all because they need to see if your up to the task of taking whatever pain they can inflict without killing you or maiming you."</span>Orca was now shouting, his knuckles turning nearly translucent as he gripped the table with such force, that it creaked and cracked in protest.<span style="font-weight: bold">"To be forced to endure pain isn't the worst part of being a slave though. No, Paislee, the worst part is when you wake up, because that means they did their part flawlessly, and you live to suffer another day."</span><br/><br/>As Orca hissed his last words, the old wooden table seemed to reach a breaking point. Shards of wood splintered under the pressure of Orca's might, causing the young creature to bleed from his hands once more. It was likely this that caused Orca to regain his composure, and return to his seat. Thought his body language seemed to calm and relax, his eyes continued to hold his former rage.<br/><br/><span style="font-weight: bold">"No matter how strong your desire is to change my life... It will not happen. The rage stored in my chest cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice and love."</span>