Vixens

Chapter One - Where there is Smoke there is Fire

1540 May 23rd of the 2nd Age

The hot sun blazes down on my frail skinny figure, dressed in a luxury, soft yellow floor length ancient Greek styled dress, the collar made of fine expensive metal to show I am a slave belonging to a wealthy house, my Mistress's name engraved finely into it to show who I belong too, it even has her address if I run away. But unlike many of my people I am supposedly 'greatly' privileged to be working in a fine house, with no 'hard' labour. Which is true, it's nothing compared to what my fellow fox shifters do. But belonging to a wealthy house, you have more rules ans requirements like me I have to know how to dance, act, sing, play the violin, serve foods, hair and so many other things like makeup, I can only do makeup on other people but not myself. But in my opinion, I am not greatly privileged no one is when they belong to someone, we could be beaten purple just for burning a piece of food I recon. But fortunately for me I have been able to stay out of trouble and no trouble means no beatings and no axe above my head.

My wavy red ginger waist length, protects me from the suns dangerous rays, threatening to burn my skin. It's a good thing I rarely get a haircut. Carrying a large heavy two basket of my Mistress's laundry to the wash room in this astonishing heat, I feel the beads of sweat gathering on my brow as I look around and see my people and people from other species working under the boiling heat, building a new, bigger pack house and gym. They look as if they could collapse at any second on those wobbly knees of theirs and perish beneath the sun and it's true. Many have died, this gym has claimed the lives of many and maybe even my father and my older brother. Who knows. Slaves aren't privileged to get informed of a family members death. 

In front of me, off to the side in the dustyconstruction sight. A worn down women with cuffed ankles, wrists and neck stumbles over onto the dusty dirt spilling a bucket of nails all over the ground catching the attention of a grumpy looking pack warrior. I can see the fear and shock in her eyes as she tries to pick all of the nails up.

"You stupid Vixen!"The pack warrior snarls, snapping his whip across her barley clothed backside making her wail in agonising pain as tears stain her red puffy eyes as she quickly tries to pick them up, sniffling and crying  as the warrior hounds her with insults and beats her with his whip making her fall to the ground. Most of the slaves here are foxshifters because we're more common than the other species. But as a slave you don't care what specie they are because it's sad no matter what. I may be young but I understand the cruel reality of this torturous world.

Everyone goes into a flustered frenzy all fearing the wrath of a whip or worse, as they carry construction tools and pieces. I speed up my pace internally cursing at the 'pack warrior' and rush into the safety of the Washing Room.

I am welcomed by the coolness of the large room and sigh, relieved no to have melted in the boiling heat. The room's walls are wooden, the floor cobblestone. The interior is very bland otherwise, rows of wooden washing tubs, drying racks, wooden shelves with cleaning tools and silver colored sinks for hand washing for shoes and such. When we do get breaks Foxes will often come here to cool off because it has a nice air flow, the only risk is if you get caught you could be in for fifty lashings across the back.

I look down the aisles of washing tubs until I find an unused one. taking off the wooden lid I yelp in fright from what I see inside the washing tub barren of water, before instantly falling onto my knees as the land hard on the cobble stone ground. Flinching in pain, I bow my head in submission, my ginger red wavy hair making a curtain around my face.

"Sorry for disturbing you Alpha Archer!" I say aloud and respectfully as I hear the young Alpha crawl out of the washing machine with a huff.

"No problem, I was just playing hide and seek with my friends." He says politely, explaining to me why he was hiding away in a washing machine as I hear him land on the stone floor