I made a thing. Enjoy my sad headcanons.

Imagine: the last of your kind, a kind that is hated, a kind enslaved, and a kind whose numbers dwindle with time. How would you feel?

Would you feel insecurity as you walk amongst others those who cast judgement upon your race? Would you feel anger towards the one who turned your people into property that can be bought and sold? Would you feel depression as your happiness slinks away with the last of your kind?

Imagine: being forced into service along with your brood mates, living in constant worry of their whereabouts and hoping that their combat training is going better than it is with you. Tasting iron as your master delivers a hard left by a fist you were unable to block. Hurting from dawn to dusk and having nothing but the hard floor to catch you when you fall, yet you don't care, you just want the one you call sister back. You want her safe and sound, to take her, leave this place and go home, a place you have no clue as to how it fares or if it's even still there

You can't do anything that won't make matters for you two worse, so you wait. Day after week, after month, after year.

You think the nightmare is over.

But your problems have only just begun.

All of your training has been completed, you manage to please your master with flying colors, sure you have to tear out a man's heart to prove your worth, but you don't mind.

You've done worse.

Your master takes you to his. He says that you have one final task: survive this, and you will see your sister again; you welcome the challenge, no matter what it may be. They like seeing you so determined, they know you want to see her, and they know you'll do anything to do so. Before you can ask what awaits for you and what you have to do to survive, you're knocked out cold.

You wake up, exposed on an operating table, your master comes over to you, and he calls this place, "The Flesh Pits." Your vison is impaired, you can't see very much, but you can smell something. You can smell that familiar iron, and you can almost taste it from all those days ago. He asks if you are ready, but before you can respond, his scalpel is already in your flesh. You cry out in agony, then you fall asleep, for it's too much, even for you.

You awaken in a new area. You're not in the pits anymore, but now in what seems like a dungeon of some sort. You're back in the clothes you originally wore, but with something new, you reach up to your face, and you find a muzzle there. As you raise them, you can hear the clatter of chains. You look to wrists, to find them being restrained. You try to emit a sound familiar with your people, to anyone who will listen, but no one can hear you, for the sound is not the same. It is altered by the muzzle. Your growls used to sound fearsome, but with this muzzle, it is no more than that, just a growl. The masters come by later to free you. They had imprisoned you so that they may tell you something.

You have been cleansed, and are now unable to reproduce. This hurts, you break, you snap, you want to jump on them and claw out their throats, you can't growl at them, or so much as even spit. You can't do anything, but feel an impulse to do everything, everything to get back at them for what they have done, but you can't. Your master explains to you that you will work for not only him, but for his master as well. His master speaks in a voice deep and thunderous, it makes your heart jumps as it bounces off the walls. "Do as we command, when we command it, and I shall free your people from slavery." Your mind races. Do as they say, and see them free. You may not be able to produce offspring, but they can, and if they are set free…you cast your anger aside. You bow to them, and through your muzzle, you say, "your wish is my command, I shall not fail you." They like hearing this, and they set you free, and for the first time in forever, you finally get to see your sister.

Your heart breaks when you find out that she is unable to reproduce either, but you are relived that other than that, she is okay, and treated fairly by your masters' master. She is fed and has her own room with a bed. It has been so long since you have slept in a bed. She asks how your master is. You remain silent. You don't want her to worry. She tells you of your homeland. "It's practically gone. The trees, the forests, the swamps and jungles we called home…they're all gone…"

"A whole realm does not just simply vanish, what happened?" She lowers her head.

"It was conquered by my master, Syzoth. He has our people in shackles." You pull her close as she begins to weep for her people and realm. You tell her of your plan. You both are to remain loyal, until your race is freed. "Zaterra will be ours once more." You assure her, she seems to buy it, but yet you are still uncertain if you can trust either master.

"We must have hope."

This is what I have managed to pull through, and yet there is still more to come. My world is no longer full of life and happiness, but now of fire and blood. Soon natives of Zaterra will roam Outworld again, and it will remember my sting.

Hope you enjoyed my thing. I may make more I dunno.