Characters involved:
Sarangerel (xxx)
Muunokhoi (xxx)
Kefir (xxx)

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Muunokhoi cast a critical eye across the gabble of slaves currently digging at the parched soil. Here and there, patches of blood darkened the dirt and some of the slaves stumbled in pain as they forced themselves to continue working hard beneath the warrior's gaze. They knew that one slip up, one sign of slowing down and he would be on them in moments, driving them into the dirt. Only yesterday one of their slave brethren had been killed, his carcass tossed about like some plaything for their entertainment.

Thankfully, for most of the slaves, they need not have worried as much as usual. Muunokhoi had eyes only for one young adult lion. His dark fur and reddish-brown mane were covered in dirt and one of his paws trailed blood as he walked, probably from claws ripped straight out of his toes. The slave was a plain looking creature but he was unlike the other slaves in that he was a seer.

It amused and baffled Muunokhoi to think that the male would rather choose the life of a slave than to offer the Nergui his gift of foresight. Had he no brain in that head of his? Did he not see how the other seers were treated?

Well, it didn't matter. The young lion would break and soon his visions would be theirs. Another god-spawn to add to their numbers. The thought pleased him and, without realising, a smile crawled its way across his maw. It was not, however, a pleasant smile; full of perfect white teeth and sharpened fangs. Fangs that had spilt blood and would do again.

The sound of approaching paws caught Muunokhoi's attention but he did not turn to see who it was. From the scent, he already knew it was his mate and wife; Sarangerel. Her scent radiated from her, alerting him to her presence far more poignantly than her paws did. And, as she drew up alongside him he felt the heat of her shoulder against his - not touching but close enough that they might as well have been.

"You threatened the Kaar Oma." His voice was low and guttural as always, like two rough stones being grated together. "Even for Faivkol, that was foolish."

"Hush daor, it is done. Now she knows you are mine."

He growled low in his throat and she turned to eye him, watching for any sign that he might turn on her. Thankfully he did not. He was in no mood to be baited by her and instead, turned his attention back to the seer-slave. "Why does that one choose to suffer, do you think?"

"The Kaar?" Sarangerel asked needlessly. "Foolish, probably. We would be better off killing him. Perhaps he sees something that he does not want to share."

"He already has." Muunokhoi growled. "I see it in his eyes. We should get the Kaar Oma to take a look into his head and see what she can find."

"Can a Kaar see into another Kaar?"

He smiled a little. "Perhaps, but there would be no fun in that, would there?" He flexed his claws and carved them into the dry earth, leaving a deep score in the ground. "I would rather take on the task myself."

Sarangerel hummed in approval. "May I assist?"

"You may watch, daor." He replied, equally sarcastic on the word of adoration. The pair of them may have been married but there was no love between them. Their partnership had been arranged, she the blood of the Founders, and he a warrior worthy of siring children with that blood intermingled. "This job is mine and mine alone. If he has secrets he will share them or..."

"Or?" She prompted.

"He will die, as you say. What use is a Kaar if he will not share what he sees? He is no better - no, he is worse - than the slaves who have no other choice. The Nergui have no need of that weakness and there are more where he came from. Many more."

A short distance away one of the slaves fell face-first into the dirt and a patrolling Nergui guard was on her immediately, shaking her by the neck and hauling her back to her paws. She did not fall again. If she had, no doubt she would have been the next to fall to their wrath.

"Where will you take him?" Sarangerel asked without emotion.

"Just far enough that he feels alone. Fetch a translator and meet me over by the rock circle, Sarangerel. I will take him there."

"If he refuses, I want to--"

"--No. You will do as I say. You will not touch him. You will only watch." And with that, he gave her a firm shove and moved on down amongst the slaves. The wave of fear as he came close was intense, but the poor seer who was to be his victim shrank in on himself as if he simply wanted to curl up and die. He was pathetically small for a male, thin and scraggly, with a sad, sunken face. The rubs jutted from his pelt which was covered with dust and grime. One of his paws was caked in blood and dirt and piled beside him were some rocks that glittered in the sunshine. Muunokhoi swept the rocks aside with a vicious swipe and rounded on the dark male, hooking the claws of a paw into the scraggly mane.

"You, Kaar are to come with me."

The seer - named Kefir - could not understand the strange garbled tongue of the Nergui, but he seemed to get the idea of what was being asked of him. Especially when Muunokhoi stepped back and stared long and hard at him. The slave, pulling himself up onto his paws, gave a wordless nod and trudged slowly up after the hulking male.

The silence pleased Muunokhoi. Some slaves tried to talk to him; tried to defend themselves. But words were meaningless if they were said in an incomprehensible language. Yes, it had been in a language he had once used but that was long ago now and he had lost much of the knowledge through a lack of practise. Speaking of common-tongue amongst the ranks was looked down on and a lion of his stead could not afford that.

He looked back at the slave and saw how hunched his shoulders were. How low his head hung. He was getting weaker, more desperate. Muunokhoi was confident that this time, the lion would break. Especially when this would be his last chance to change his mind.