The rhythmic clinking of chains heralded the arrival of the new… thing. Barani watched from her seat as the guards dragged the captive into her tent. The air thickened with the usual mix of apprehension and crude curiosity from her retinue. Gifts from neighboring lords were often exotic, sometimes useful, but rarely lived up to the boasts that preceded them.
It knelt before her dais, pushed down by rough hands. From her elevated position, Barani could take in the general form.
"So this is their gift," Barani murmured, mostly to herself, the words hanging in the suddenly quiet tent. She scanned the captive. "Such a strange appearance." Was it strong? Agile? Intelligent? Or just another mouth to feed, another body to eventually discard? Only time would tell.
Rising, the silk of her gown whispering with the movement, Barani descended from the dais. She circled the kneeling figure slowly, her eyes missing nothing. "What is your name, slave?" she inquired, her voice soft yet demanding. She reached out, her fingers brushing against skin. "вы, huh? What can you do? Can you sing? Dance? Or perhaps you have other talents?" A prod to the side, testing muscle or flab. Her hand drifted upwards, tangling in hair. She gave it a sharp tug, eliciting a satisfying tension. A small smile played on her lips. "Or perhaps this is only good for pulling?"
