<div class="floatright">(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v484/FujinAkari/e7cb5ded61a03196325d2fa64e2cfef9_zps76b34ee3.jpg)</div><br/><em>Naori's eyes snapped open.  It was the same thing.  Same dismal cell, same unappealing slop.  Same unresponsive guards.  She didn't know how she had gotten here, what she had supposedly done, or how long this tedium was apt to continue. <br/><br/>The first few days she had acted much as any other prisoner was likely to act... she had shouted at the guards, attempted to pry up the grate, kicked at the door, demanded to see her accuser, and just basically acted like the entitled little brat that she probably was.  It hadn't done much... earned her dismal silence in the best case and a casual beating in the worst... and before long she had slowly cooled off and realized that antagonizing the very people who were giving her food was likely the last thing that she ought to be doing.<br/><br/>Periodically, the unseen jailors would arrive with unappetizing slop of gruel.  For the first several visits Naori had simply sniffed at the offering.  By the fourth time, the gnawing of her stomach had forced the prideful elf to lower herself to the floor and consume the offering with half-disgusted gusto.  Still, mealtime was the high point in the elfess' day... not only did it provide a distraction from the monotony in the form of gruel, but it also often meant that a melodic, slightly lilting voice would be overheard, presumably from another of the cells.<br/><br/>Naori had no idea who it was... but the diminutive elfess imagined some buxom blonde bimbo with more body than sense, and spent many a lonely night softly squeezing her thighs together slowly allowing her mind to linger on exactly what she would have done to the songbird were she the captain of the guard rather than a slave in their care...<br/><br/>One day, her celldoor opened and the elfess caught her first noseful of comparatively fresh air since she had, somehow, ended up in this place.  She winced slightly at the appearance of the manacles but knew that arguing with creatures with such a poor grasp of the barbaric human tongue, to say nothing of the elegance of elven, would be pointless.  She glanced down at herself and made a face, not for the first time... she had woken up here and, of course, did not sleep in her armor.  For the past several days she had been in little more than a frilly leotard which she typically slept in... but the realization of just how vulnerable she actually looked only now took hold as the door separating her from her captors was thrown wide.  Still... nothing to be done about...<br/><br/>She sighed, and held her hands before her, wrists crossed.</em>"You will<strong>not</strong>be restraining those behind the back.<em>she stated, matter-of-factly.</em>