Saturday, February 25th * Afternoon
A step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking.
A cage is not a home. It is an accessory, an accoutrement for the feral. What you get the lady when she is a tiger. They treat me like this, then tut and simper when I act as surroundings demand. You shape something, you are responsible for its form.
It was only a little blood.
Men. No stomachs.
She hadn't been allowed to leave her cell for two weeks, due to "misbehaviour." Just as well, really. Dealing with the sycophants who would no doubt have come crawling when Lucius was released would have been more tiresome than amusing.
And that would have led to more blood. A vicious circle indeed.