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[Stillwater]

Stillwater

It didn't hurt. Yet he was more aware of it shackled to his right foreleg and weighing him down than the bright red, angry claw marks claiming his shoulder. Ironically, like cuffs and a badge.

It clinked softly when he walked, this chain at his ankle. Like a collar, a leash, it kept him in her backyard like a good dog. He couldn't leave until she released him. Until he fulfilled his end of their "agreement". At least the witch had the decency not to make it thick, ugly chain-link, an obnoxious sight that demanded a viewer's eye, and instead it almost looked ornamental. Almost as though he'd chosen it for himself.

Like hell, he would.

He swallowed the sour taste of bile in the back of his throat, standing at one of the borders --he wasn't sure which one and didn't care. The anklet had grown heavier and heavier the closer he got to escape. He'd had to stop his progress, though, at risk of not being able to lift his leg at all. A soft breeze tousled his dry hair. So dry. Dark eyes stared out blandly while his heart burned in steady, silent rage. He was a wild thing, a solitary creature. Now captured and owned.

Put to work in a shiny little harness.

And the locals. God, they hated him. He didn't think there was a single one in acceptance of his puzzling presence here, save for perhaps any that may have just barely arrived. Unaware of his own newness here, they would be the most forgiving of him.

But who knew. Maybe there was someone out there not entirely despising him as much as he was himself.