<strong> Sorcha treads softly.</strong><br/><br/>All of the way on this ridiculous slave wagon type contraption Sorcha watched. Again her mind said ‘slave indeed’. This feral female had been making her mark even with bound hands and with only one sliver of wood and a finger.  Yes it hurt, yes her nail and fingers bled but the land would know where she was, and any that came after her would know the story from the spiral that was left. Much like those left in the stones of her home lands.<br/><br/>She remained filled with spittle and spite, even more so when this woman saw two horses and one of the dogs, and how they seemed to suffer yet more than her.<br/><br/>Did these monsters know nothing? This was sickening, it was more than that….her mind screamed out<em> they, those ignorant ones, understood nothing.</em>Yet the muzzle kept her mouth quiet for the most. But a soft plan began to fall like feathers in her mind. The idea was as the gentleness of the deep snow and the skin of the rabbit and the fox, and down of the birds which hid so well in the heath. The thought had to remain so hidden, as animals she knew.<br/><br/><br/>Luckily, or perhaps not Sorcha was close to one of the horses that seemed to favour its right front over the left, and appeared in pain. Completely ignoring the monster from the corrupted land, the feral pict moved to the animal with some difficulty considering her chains and let her face stroke the long muzzle of the grey. After blowing in its nostrils and letting out a quiet whinny Sorcha ignored it and looked to the ground. The horse’s head followed hers. It was only then she gestured to the lame leg with her head to the one that ‘owed him’. Then her cheek stroked the grey’s face for the horse’s scent at least gave her a little touch of home.<br/><br/>However much she hated these people, these vile creatures that destroyed that which was precious to others, their animals had no choice …just like she did not…at least for the moment…<br/><br/>Sorcha was vicious but not wholly cruel thus she also gestured with her head to one of the dogs that was to her obviously filled with pups, and to another horse that appeared uncomfortable, likely lame too, or perhaps just a stone caught in its foot.<br/><br/>Were they all blind? The pict thought so, if they punished her, she was not afraid. She could fight back, these animals could not. Was it the metal and the false scent that they wore that blinded them? In time she would learn and just the same in time her plan to return to the harsh lands of her home land would come to fruition.<br/>