Familiar Pact

7. Lights, Camera, Action

I think the cameras are an inbuilt system to this trailer. He certainly appears to turn them on quickly. He unstraps me as well, as his hands reach for my collar I almost believe he's going to remove that as well. He loosens it instead, pulling scabs where my flesh has healed round it. More blood seeps out to join the rest on my fur and the floor. How strange it will feel to have skin again.

I stand when he indicates, weariness still weighing my movements down, my mind just as slow. There's a duct-taped x on the floor in the centre. I pad my way over there and crouch, feeling Ringmaster approve.

"Go ahead, little leopard, time to be a real boy" I hate his smirking face.

I take one last deep breath, for my family, and feel inwards for the switch that will pull me into my human form. I fear for a moment that it's too late, I've been shifted too long. Then something comes free and I start to scream.

There isn't one part of me that isn't damaged, bones warp and click. A grinding feeling pulses through one hand as an old broken bone realigns. I'm too absorbed in screaming bloody murder to have more than vaguely muse about which beating caused it to break. Then my muscle warps; tearing and mending as they reposition.  My skin is burning and throbbing in its struggle to heal. The deepest scars settle to white lines ringing my torso and limbs. Some are old, many from this evening. My screams are hoarse, and then it's over, my body healed. My body is human.

I'm still breathing deeply when I look up into Ringmasters grinning blue eyes.

"Aren't you a pretty one! Say thank you master"

My voice is cracked and hoarse from disuse.
"Thank you, Master"
I hate myself.

Time passes in a blur of hopeless exhaustion, only my fear keeping me semi-conscious and still. Ringmaster left, saying that no-one would want to touch me whilst I was so filthy, but I could practice my obedience and learn enough to fulfil at least the minimum expectations. So I stay kneeling, like a damn pet. I grit my teeth to stop another snarl from echoing into the room. I can survive anything, until my friend is freed.

I keep feeling that I should have asked for some sort of proof that the bobcat even was Arduino. I mean bobcat shifters are pretty rare, and I'm pretty sure we're within a couple of hours of home, even so... they might not even know if it's Arduino or not. I hate the fact that I was too damn terrified of the Ringmaster to even think about the fact that I could speak again. I hate that my first words were thanking him. I don't know who I am anymore- I used to be so strong, a protector, yet it feels that that person was stripped away from me so easily, and underneath I'm just a scared puppet. Weak.

Hi, it's me again, well I guess you know that as I don't think anyone else talks to you in your head like this..  or do they? Who knows!

Ridiculous, I hate it. How can that voice sound so irritatingly happy and perky. I hate it, go away!

You hate... I... you must be having a pretty bad day. I'll go. Are you going to be alright?

Fucking voices in my head... damn... I feel awful. Made an possibly imaginary girl cry. Why! Why is this my life? The first person who actually asks if I'm okay, and I make her cry.

I bite back my own tears. Not letting Ringmaster see me cry. I'm covered in enough dirt that tear tracks would likely be clearly visible should I cry at all. Nope, not happening. I tilt my face up to try to hold them in. It takes a while to control myself, to bury my emotions so Ringmaster can't feel my vulnerabilities so easily. I try to think of something positive...

I'm ridiculously glad of the filth I'm covered in for once, for the reprieve it's giving me. It feels ingrained in my skin, and I really hope Ringmaster is waiting until the next campsite where there will be a proper water supply. I hope I'll actually be allowed a shower, instead of being hosed down. Warm water has long since become a fantasy of mine. I drift into a light doze, wishing I could return to my panther form, if only for the warmth fur would grant.

Tears track down my face, probably leaving tracks in the filth. I'm only half-aware of them, and too tired to remember I was trying not to cry. This is what I've come to... grateful for dirt and hoping for warm water. Maybe it's a good thing Arduino didn't see me.