My slave and I arrive at the mouth of the cave. Now that I think about it, she never introduced herself. She wasn’t much for conversation since we met a few miles back, but neither was I. And that is perfectly fine.

As I peer into seemingly bottomless depths, the jagged formations of rock leave not much to the imagination of what could await inside. There are wolves in there for sure, but other monsters such as goblins could be lurking in the passages. And those green midgets breed with women, who are all clearly out of the goblin’s league, and the babies still end up looking like green scum. It’s a shame really, what a waste.

Life itself is a sadist, and it is even less kind to those who are unprepared for it. Say, if a group of adventurers wished to explore a cave without the basic necessities; they could be slaughtered or raped by goblins, and it would be entirely their fault. Such an occurrence shouldn’t be surprising.

However, I won’t meet my bad end here today, after all, I am strong. ...And a hypocrite. I am seconds before entering a big, scary cave and the best I prepared is by bringing along some foodstuff, a child that would probably kill me in my sleep, and the same knickknacks in my pockets that I woke up with. Yet, I can’t bring myself to care about my situation.

. .

. . .

A familiar heaviness envelops me whole. The chillness dances between my knees and tickles my nose as we weave through the stalagmites. It feels like I had stepped into a different dimension again. Caves are wonderful in that sense.

Behind me, my slave makes rustling noises from fumbling with her clothing.

*Krrssh*

Warmth seeps into my skin. I turn around to see her holding a torch up. “Why?” I ask.

“I thought a light would help you see,” she replies flatly.

“It’s bright as day in here, what are you saying?” I respond quizzically. I shift my eyes around dramatically to emphasize my point.

She stands there with a puzzled look gracing her face, the warmth of a torch's glow nowhere to be seen.

I breathe out heavily after realizing my mistake. We are in a place tucked away where the sun's ray cannot reach, but my perception of reality is not registering with logic. It must be dark because she took out a torch. “Let's go,” I shrug, choosing to not explain something that I cannot explain myself.

We continue onward. Swirls of deep rock formations scrap my sides in some of the narrower tunnels. I have yet to see any signs of life; perhaps a bone, damaged tools, or even the remains of an abandoned campsite would give some indication as to who or what might have been here before me. But no, the place looks to be relatively empty of life.

*Grrrr* A low growl echoes, followed by the sound of metal scraping rock.

My body stills mid-step. I notice them.

Their green eyes glow bright, contrasting their coarse, heavy, dull coats. Eerie shadows of their silhouettes dance and cascade in the open cavern walls while they slink restlessly without purpose. What’s strange is that their shadows range from skinny to mammoth, yet all contorted. Their actual bodies are that of large dire wolves. Their fur stands upright, seemingly denser than burnt fudge, and even possibly able to stop, let’s say my knife from reaching into their body.

Fighting these monsters may be difficult, so I hope my slave is up for this. On second thought, will she be able to handle this fight? She was easily taken down as the afterthought of the previous battle.

“Run outside now,” I whisper to her behind me.

The air hangs from her brief hesitation, but she takes a few steps back, and then she breaks out into a run.

The wolves jolt alive and they begin to run towards me. Many pairs of glowing green eyes zigzag through the air, mirroring the collective waves of glow sticks in a dark concert hall.

*THump, thUMP, tHUmp, thuMp* Heavy feet pound the ground, while I brace myself for the impending flurry of limb-tearing bites.

But none stopped to spare me a second glance because they had mutually chosen another target.

Her.

I sigh just at the time that I icepick grip my knife. I stare at the back of my fleeing slave and make a single backward thrust; the polished blade immediately sinks into the wolf that tried to pass me. It falls unceremoniously on its snout.

I pretend that I am in a track race, with all the other runners trying to reach the goal. But I need to be faster. My knife rips into each wolf I pass them, unrelenting while each one of them yips in pain. Eventually, I stop when there is only stale air between the slave and me.

I turn around to face the rest of the pack that has yet to catch up. “You will have to get to me first before you can touch what is mine!” I give a toothy grin at the monsters.

The remaining of the pack shift cautiously on their feet upon seeing their fallen brethren laying in heaps of fur soaking in the pool of their blood. However, that does not stop three wolves from pouncing at me, claws raised. I roll underneath one and raise my knife piercing its neck and letting the wolf’s momentum from jumping forward do the work, dragging the blade down to its tail.

I make quick work of the other two in their surprised state.

Having eliminated the immediate threats, I raise my head and peer at the pack with an unsympathetic expression.

"..."

The ground shakes once again when the horde moves as one. Only this time, they have a different prey in mind.

--- --- ---

The heat of the afternoon sun kisses my skin. It’s too hot. When I open my eyes, I see a single red eye staring at me. “What happened?” I croak.

“I found you sleeping on top of a pile of monster corpses,” she speaks.

“Is that so?” I murmur to myself.

She doesn’t reply but continues to stare at me.

Does that mean she came back for me after I told her to run away? How stupid of her. What if I was in the middle of being brutally torn apart by the monsters? What would she have done then? I could punish her for not listening to me. I furrow my brows in mild annoyance at her, ready to lecture her. Well, I’m outside now, thanks to her. I suppose she dragged me out during my brief unconscious state. How pathetic of me.

“You’re a good kid,” I reach up to tuck my hand under her jawline. It’s becoming a strange habit of mine.

She doesn’t flinch this time; most likely because my hand is caked with dried blood instead of the uncomfortable wetness of freshly spilled blood.

“I have to gather the quest materials,” I mention.

“I collected their left paws,” she says.

“...How do you know the quest specifics? I never told you,” my brain racks up the few words we exchanged earlier today.

“The left paw has medicinal properties. I assumed the quest you mentioned had to deal with that, so I gathered them while you were resting,” she answers.

“Ah, you’re the best,” I relax, sinking my head deeper into her thighs.

“It is expected for a slave to know her master’s wishes,” she speaks monotonically.

“Hehe, even so. You’re a good girl,” I chuckle.

She only continues to stare at me.

"..."

“Now let’s head back. We’re eating a feast!” I grin and stretch out.

She follows behind, dragging along an oversaturated bag of freshly chopped paws.