Pact of Dragons

6

There was a small smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. He bent down to her.
"I always appreciate it when my Dragongirls are spitting mad, instead of wetting their pants with fear—go on," he said simply before folding his arms across his chest expectantly. He stayed like that, by her side, while the others seemed to be undergoing a selection process that was just as messy. A pair of the ditziest sluts had apparently listened to the general and went straight for one of the giants, who just grinned down at them dumbly.
"God, they're deranged..." Rahel muttered, but of course the Dragonier had heard her.
"Why do you think that?" he asked, amused anew. She looked up at him briefly, surprised, as she'd thought she was just talking to herself, but he didn't notice and continued on. "At least they have their pick, as long as the girls play along. And if some of the girls like the big hulks, it's no skin off my back," he mused, shrugging his shoulders.
She just shook her head again, feeling as dark as ever. "You do realize you're being offered prison leftovers, right? Murderers and thieves and criminals?" she inquired, not quite knowing herself what she was trying to achieve with her prickly tone.
But he just laughed quietly and looked back at her, frankly amused. "Look, where you come from, we're all considered murderers, thieves, and criminals, ourselves. And, anyway, we know how to appreciate a few tough girls who know how to handle themselves in a fight—we don't give a shit if your country doesn't want them anymore," he mused, smirking. His gaze on her was authentically laidback.

"So what kind of trouble did you get into, in order to get here?" he asked then, matter-of-factly. Most likely he had no idea what else to say; he seemed more interested in involving her in an exchange of words than in any one topic.
Rahel didn't mind keeping him waiting for that.
She looked up at him only briefly, with a dark expression on her face. "I made the unforgivable mistake of jumping out the window, six months ago, when our house was burning down and my whole family died," she said bitterly and turned away.
His face got all funny then and might have made her laugh, if she'd seen it. He took a few seconds to consider what she'd said, then shrugged his shoulders skeptically.
"I can always just ask the guard, if you don't want to tell me yourself. They have it all on paper," he offered, sounding not a little cynical.
She threw him a furious glance. "I was arrested for possession and drug use and, according to that fucking piece of paper, for dealing and prostitution. In short order I was charged, sentenced, and brought here," she ultimately growled in reply.
He just nodded again shortly and drew a little sigh. "So you are a junkie. Well, we'll figure it out, don't worry. When you start going into withdrawal, just come to me—I'll help you out."
Rahel had had about enough of his condescending treatment and rolled her eyes, seething with anger and resentment.
"I am not in pain and there is no way in hell I'm coming to you for anything, because I'm not a goddamned fucking miserable junkie!" she yelled at him now, making his eyebrows shoot up in authentic surprise at her outburst before he smiled again contentedly.
"Fine by me," she heard him say as a guy came up to him, pulling the overly made-up eyeliner-blond. "Hey, dude. Your junkie is a pretty one. Tatiana here just told me she's a real badass. Didn't puke or anything on the plane ride, even though she's supposed to be on really hard stuff. Tatiana asked the guard and she told her.
"Rahel here gets off on heroin, cocaine, LSD, morphine, all kinds of shit," reported the blond guy in a friendly tone as her quarterback-type gave her an appraising look.
"Yeah, she's a real tough case," he finally said. "Better take note, Rugart. Nice girl, by the way, even for you, just a little too much color in the face, in my opinion. Best have her give herself a good wash, before you all follow me. Oh, and she's not really blond—but you'll figure that out soon enough."
"I could care less. She's the top bitch in her gang, Leader," the blond type just snorted good-naturedly. The two then actually had a brief conversation about Tatiana's abundant breasts and Rahel's own, relatively smaller ones.
Really?!
This was an absolute meat market here. Rahel started seething internally again. Her gaze crossed with that of the blond girl, who was eyeing her with skepticism, as though to say, And what sad bitch coughed you up just this morning? This is how guys talk!
In other words: The whole scene was total bullshit, but it was apparently totally normal for the dragon monsters.
She didn't engage in the black-haired dragon's attempt to draw her into the conversation and jerked away when he tried to grab her, snarling at him blackly so that all the others watching her reacted with laughter, with ooohs and ahhhs that even their chosen one took in good spirits. Quarterback might have even been exclaiming the loudest; he was surely laughing moronically, as though her behavior were truly comical. Come to think of it, it probably was—here she was trying to ward off the advances of a dragon... dumb as she was.
How easily he could mete out her punishment—in front of his buddies, no less. At some point, Rahel simply stopped caring. Closed her ears to it. Whatever the men were saying about her advantages and disadvantages, it was all the same to her: just white noise. Everything that was happening was just totally surreal, far, far removed from her and her actual feelings. It was more like a livestock auction than a dragon sacrifice, anyway. All of these bums were just looking for a good cow. Only, the unlikely girls were chosen quickly. There were longer conflicts over the pretty, voluptuous gangbangers from South America; the dragons fought for the pick or one would simply grab her away from another, who in turn would let fly with a punch or just mope a bit before seeking out another ho. All the remaining girls were standing around in formation, scared or maybe secretly wishing to stir something up with the beasts. The other junky girl, for example, now took off running across the broad airfield, back towards the airplane, which the guards were boarding. She ran smack into one of the dragon types who'd moved to intercept her; he, amused, caught her, and asked mischievously where the fire was.
It was sheer chaos.