Neil, the slave-guard that wanted to buy his own slave headed into the barn while the slaver (and, unseen, Mélanie) watched and listened.
It took only a moment, a surprisingly short moment, for the shouting to start. Jasper? No, none of those voices were familiar. She moved closer, listening until she heard Neil shout in panic.
Good. She smiled a little bit. It might not be stinging bugs in his pants, but it was probably just about what he deserved.
The slaver looked between the barn and his nice warm house. She could almost see the gears turning in his head. Safe house, profits, safe house, profits. Continue reading