<em>Sorcha now with Autolycus</em><br/><br/>Sorcha was more upset at the treatment of the animals, than herself, she was horrified at the lack of respect these people had for the land and the others that walked upon it, they were nothing more than an affront to the name human. It did come as a shock to her as her hair was painfully grabbed by the disgusting worthless wretch, had she not been bound and gagged then she would have felt her claws and teeth, he would not have been the first man to loose something to those sharp fangs.<br/><br/>As she was dragged Sorcha made patterns in the sand but would not fall to her knees, she would not bow before this son of a beast. All the time she looked in the Captains eyes, her dark eyes still burned with an unbroken spirit, after all she knew she was still alive for a reason, and he was one of them. The sand would be as bloody as the snow in her own land.<br/><br/>The man that barked his orders did indeed catch her attentions though he made her back arch a little as a wild cat might when faced with a lion, he was certainly impressive, but that did not mean that the pict hated him any the less….it would just take time to finish him, after all the Lion was a pride filled animal. Sorcha had no idea what he was saying but whatever it was seemed filled with the venom and poison of his race.<br/><br/>The guard that dragged her bodily to Autolycus was given a cold dark look he too was marked, and marked well, for he was rather rough with his hands. On the way Sorcha saw her comrades a whinny passed her mouth and then a bark, at least as much as she could with her muzzle. The animals did prick there ears and for part of the way one of the horses and the dog filled with pups went to follow, however they like her were bound and taken to a place they had no wish to be in. If anyone did take notice, it was obvious this feral woman, this wild woman of the north had more affinity with animals than humans…she understood how to walk upon the land.<br/><br/>Her nose twitched at the scent in this place, some of the smells she understood others she did not, perhaps this man was as the wise woman in the other settlement, the one that spoke to the spirits, though the question was what vile and corrupt spirits would a man like him speak to if he worked in harmony with the metal men.<br/><br/>Once tied Sorcha looked at her new captor with similar hate as she had shown before and as she carefully stared to free herself hoping to go unnoticed she stared to build the saliva in her mouth, they may have poison in their voice but she had spittle for their faces. For now she paid little heed to any other slaves she could not understand there words and she had no wish to comply as they seemed to. When anyone came close the feral woman growled, and all the time Sorcha was slowly working free of her bonds…<br/>