The Eyes and Ears of a Servant

'You don't see, you don't hear.' Those are the words that we live by. Anything else and we'll end up dead.

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The life of a servant is one that drowns in silence and the niche to serve. To the Nartix, my kind is nothing. Hunted down for sport. In their eyes they don't see people who breathe, dream, feel, bleed the same as them. No, they see lesser beings unworthy of their presence unless they are there to serve, barely even then.

But how can they miss the rise and fall of our chests? The bright eyes lit with a life of desires? The bump-bump of our hearts, the drip-drop of our blood?

It is because those who can speak for us all are silenced.

We don't see, we don't hear.

But there comes a day when the distance thunder comes for the quiet prairies...