She-Swine

"Nope! No no no no no no! Not happening! No way!" Olive dug in her trotters as Eryck removed her manacles. "J-just put me in one of those small cells! They looked secure!"

"Those are for sentenced prisoners, or danglers waiting on the noose," Frey told her, coolly, gesturing with a closed hand for the inmates to step back. "Do you want the noose?"

"N-no." Olive quailed, her tail flicking. "B-but when there's clearly a log jam--"

"You'll only be in processing a few hours at most," Eryck assured her, chains dangling from his fingers. "Then you'll be moved, or let go."

"What about us?" A plummy voice called out, edged with barbed syllables. Olive turned, saw a feline face peek through the bars, snow white cheeks set off by a tarry mane, eyes like glinting emeralds. "I have been waiting two days, by my accounting, which I'll note is passing difficult with only torchlight as a basis. But I've been blessed, when we count these other unfortunates! Why, Bristle here has been waiting for your call almost a week!" She exclaimed, gesturing with a paw-like hand to the mountain of fur and teeth, strapped tightly in leather, still fixed on his meal.

"We're short a few swords," Eryck admitted, nodding. "And more quills. But be assured, the system is still turning! Just needs better pulleys."

"Or a new wheel." The feline tutted, tail whip-cracking at her back. Her eyes slid to Bristle, then Olive, softening. "Don't worry sweetling: he's all lick, no swallow!"

That's not assuring! She thought, feet scraping along stone as the cell door opened, Eryck shoving her forward, ushering her inside.

The door snapped shut behind her, a key twisting.

Like a pork cutlet in the lion's den.

"Wait! Come on! Let me out! I have a family! Bills!" Olive turned, tugged at the bars, shoving her face between. "You can't--"

"We can," Frey sang, jostling a dull key in her palm. "And just did!"

Olive blanched, belly flipping. Gooseprickles clawed up her back. tail trembling as she felt a bristled shadow fall over her, like a veil. Slowly, she turned on her trotters, nails scratching along cold, coarse stone, a thick lump clogging her throat.

The wolven form stood over her, his eyes well dark, grinning hungrily.

"Someone will be back for you," Eryck said, turning to leave.

"Eventually." Frey had a grin in her voice, as an iron door creaked, slammed shut with a clangour of finality.

Olive screamed. It didn't change anything, her shrill voice bouncing off the slate, resonating strangely with the iron, precipitating only a dull pain in her temple. The beast snarled, his clawed hands shooting out, gripping her under the armpits. She kicked as her feet left the ground, pink hands curling into pink fists, thwacking at his wrists, his elbows.

Useless. She was absolutely, hopelessly useless. The toothy mongrel didn't even seem to notice.

"Let me go let me go let me go!" Her eyes welled, the back of her snout stinging. She cast about, for the cat, the green elf, the myriad deadbeats who lined the cell, clinging to benches, the bars. Most were human, some in loose rags, others in dresses and suits that could pass for acceptable with a thorough washing. The cat, in particular, was resplendent in a purple, chiffon bodice, laced up corset, and matching petticoats.

All layers of the social strata represented...

...and not a one of them raised a hand to help her. A waxy-faced girl at the end of the bench was even sleeping!

I'm sorry, is me dying boring you?!

She steeled herself, holding up her chin, as she always did when the world let her down, and braced, muscles taut. This was it. She was prey, about to be eaten by an apex predator. The natural order of things, though she'd always seen herself on the other side.

"I hope you choke on me!" She managed, snout trembling as those big teeth parted, closed in.

And a large, coarse, dripping tongue dragged along her cheek, her hair, curling it awkwardly on her scalp. She gawped, eyes wide, cheeks warm as a stovetop.

"Told you," the cat sang, her coal-tipped ears keen as wings. "All lick! Just let him have his fun."

Is it too late to just let him eat me?

Bristle lapped at her jaw, her snout, her brow, her ears, her expression increasingly broad, stupefied. The terror abated, smoothing away, replaced by something more abiding, brushing up against docile. As a survival instinct, she let herself go limp, arms and legs dangling like a ragdoll.

This might be the worst thing to happen to me today, she thought, pouting as the mongrel lapped at her lips. And I got shot!

With a last taste of her eyelid, Bristle set her back on her trotters, smiling, tousling her hair and ears. "You're a tasty one, aren't ya? Gonna need to keep you close, in case I get a hankering..."

Great, I'm a pork lollipop, now! She screamed at herself, dimly nodding along with a stiff smile. The day was just a cascade of new and increasingly infuriating slights, and she was nowhere close to understanding how she got there, or what she needed to do to get back.

Was she in hell? Purgatory? If she was, it at least amused her to think that god, or the devil, had... strange tastes. Pig people, yes, she remembered those, and cat people too. But wolf people? That was certainly new...

But she was adaptable. She adapted to corporate politics, and fantasy worlds, hells, simulations, they all paled next to that adder's nest.

So she kept smiling, nodding, ignoring the thick film of saliva on her face. Her time would come. She just needed to watch and wait.

Bristle smiled back, his matted tail rising. "I like you," he said, with another, infuriating pat on her head. "You can go wherever you want, piglet!" His ears twisted, lips curling at one end like a scimitar. "What did I say?" He hooked his thumb, pointing at the green elf, standing a few feet to the side of where he was, who paled bloodless, then stepped swiftly back. "Good man!"

"Well, you passed the test!" the cat said, taking Bristle's spot as the brute left them, went to nestle into a corner. "I've been remiss. Sianna L'ye!" She dipped into a low curtsy, ears sagged, tail up. "Tailor, performer, entrepeneur!"

"She means she distracts people, then steals things!" Bristle said, with a snort, cuddling into a ball.

"And looks spectacular while doing it!" Sianna giggled, then flushed, downy cheeks blooming red. "Allegedly."

"Olive." Olive said, curtly, wiping her face on her elbow. "What test?"

Sianna shrugged. "Not sure. But, true enough, you passed!"

Bristle's tail flicked out, smacked the sleeping woman in the face, unsettling her gossamer-white tresses. She didn't stir. Olive stared for a long moment, looking for signs of life. She saw it, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, wrinkling her grey robe, then snorted.

"Ah, so you've noticed sleeping beauty." Sianna tittered, reaching into a pocket in her petticoats, pulling out a marble.

"I'd kill to sleep that well, right now." Olive sighed, leaning against the bars.

Sianna smirk, pinched the marble up in torchlight. Emerald green, to match her eyes. "It's a good trick, really. No murder needed. Just a bit of Fabric, folded neatly..." She leveled her hand, licked her lips, then snapped her wrist, the marble whistling through the cell, toward the sleeper's face.

A blur, and the marble skittered to a side, rolling down the slate. The sleeper's hand was up, in front of her gaped, drooling face, which cocked to a side, in quiet regard.

"We don't know how she does it, but a part of her stays vigil while the rest takes its winks." Sianna told her, collecting the marble. "And that part happens to have reflexes that humble my kind!" She sniggered, one clawed hand on her chest, whiskers silvery in the flickering light.

"You're too hard on yourself." A new, lilting voice broke in. A figure stepped in from a corner, sheathed in a black mantle, violet eyes guttering under a heavy hood. "Besides, she used magic. Hardly playing fair."

Olive had not noticed her. She bit her cheek, balling her hands. "Where'd you come from?" She asked, pivoting, shuffling behind Sianna. The cat, for her part, noting her panic, wrapped her tail around the Porcene's waist, squeezing slightly.

Her ears began to burn, and her tail trembled. I'm not a little girl... she seethed, cheeks puffed, though she did nothing to break herself free.

"I'll ask you not to do that again, sweetling," Sianna said, with an admonishing tut. "I've a delicate heart, prone to hysteria."

A lie, and a bald one, too. She'd hardly reacted to the newcomer's appearance, aside from a subtle shift of her ears.

"I'll be sure to keep it in mind," the woman said, hands behind her back, pacing down the cell. "But you don't get far in my profession by letting people see you before you've seen them."

"Then you must be very good at your profession!" Sianna said, taking her measure. "I have good eyes, even for my people. And this is a small space. Not much room to hide..."

Olive detected a hint of sage on her snout. Lavender. Burnt hair. All wafting off of the pacing woman. There was no world where she wouldn't have noticed that...

"Oh, but there is, if you know the ways." The others were watching, now. Bristle's snout had lifted, the green elf regarded her blearily from his niche, even the sleeper had turned her head to follow her course. "Now, an important question: who here has seen enough iron and stone to fill out a lifetime?"

Olive could smell the implication, shrinking behind the cat.

A few, tense moments stretched, Olive pinching her ear, skimming her eyes over the motley crew of prisoners. Bristle raised his clawed hand first, then the green elf. The human prisoners followed, sporadically. As did the sleeper, her bony hand swaying delicately.

Sianna, reluctantly, sighed, raised her's.

"Thirteen to one!" The woman announced, waving her arm as she looked past Sianna, toward Olive. "What about you? Do you like the aesthetic? The mood?" A ripple of abortive laughs rolled through the room.

"I just... don't want to--" She scraped at the stone with her trotters. What was the matter?

"Don't want to what? Breathe fresh air?" The woman tutted, shaking her head.

"Leave the poor thing be. It's her decision!" Sianna told her, with a squeeze of her tail.

Olive shifted red, standing straight. I can speak for myself! "I-I just don't want to get dragged into some random idiot's harebrained plan, whatever it is!" She huffed, breath hissing from her snout.

The woman went quiet, pensive. Sianna looked over her shoulder, regarded her charge with slow consideration, nodded agreement. The green elf quailed, further sinking into his corner.

Bristle grinned. "Knew I liked you," he said, curt as a fallen branch.

"Fair enough I suppose," the woman granted, reaching for her hood, pulling it back. Olive's heart palpitated as a soft, radiant face came into relief. Jewel-bright eyes, a refined nose, lush lips, raised cheekbones. Hair like liquid lilac, rolling down her shoulders. Olive felt her breath catch, her muscles relaxing as the woman regarded her with radiant eyes. "Trust is important as a basis for cooperation, so I concede that an introduction should be in order, at least. To establish us as more than 'random idiots', at least."

"My name Olive," she managed, cursing herself. Of course. Soon as a pretty woman shows up, brain goes on vacation!

She smirked, a devious, knowing smirk. "Lovely to make your acquaintance, Olive! My name is Ylsa, and today, I will be your jailbreaker!"