Author's Note: I've read a lot of fanfics in which the main character is kidnapped and sold off as a pet, and a lot of hilarity and/or tragedy ensues because of it. I've been strangely intrigued by the idea (and not just because I think Jack Harkness would love a planet with people wearing collars and leashes - meOW!), but wanted to see more development regarding the owners who buy the main character as a pet. I wanted to really delve into her mind and see what kind of relationship she has with Seo.

I like what I do with Madgella in this story. You really see the dynamic between Seo and Madgella in this chapter, and I love it because it's so unusual for this genre.

Enjoy!

Madgella still remembered when mornings were bright and cheery, with smells of breakfast wafting through the house and her husband by her side.

She remembered it in a haze, now.

It felt like another life to her.

Madgella woke up, this morning — as she did every morning — to a dull gray, cloudy sky. She looked over to the far side of the rock, and found it empty.

Not even the scent of him left.

And Madgella — as she did every day — turned away from the empty side of the rock. Letting herself sag against her own side, eyes staring ahead at nothing.

Why bother getting up?

Life had no point, anymore. It was senseless, violent, and… meaningless.

Then the door to her room opened. And Sunshine stepped in, bounce in her step and eyes twinkling, a tray of breakfast in her arms. She bore her teeth and raised the side of her lips in that peculiar way she always did when she wanted to be friendly.

"Sunshine," Madgella said, uncurling herself from the rock.

And she felt like sunshine. This warm-bodied mammal who was always ready and waiting for Madgella, every single day. She was so vibrant — her mind filled with wind and storms and sunshine and gentle breezes — it was as if she radiated it to those around her.

Sunshine set down the tray on the rock.

Then put a gentle, comforting hand on Madgella's cold skin — warming it.

Outside the house, the first hints of sun crept through the clouds.

Madgella turned to her breakfast, and tried — as she did every morning — to eat it. With little success. Sunshine had mashed up the flyciaxes in a great big mess, complete with wings and legs and everything. It tasted revolting.

"No, no, you messed it up again," Madgella said, making sure to project her annoyance. She pointed at the mess. "You're supposed to carve it up before you mash it, then cook—"

She stopped.

As she realized… if Sunshine, smart as she was, hadn't figured it out by now — she never would.

"All right, I'd better go out for breakfast," Madgella surrendered. She got up from her rock, as Sunshine hurried to help her dress.

And while it was difficult to pick up emotional states from this strange creature who used her face as if it were an easel on which she could paint how she felt… Madgella was finally able to recognize the expression that Sunshine wore, right now.

That little upturn of her lips, just at the corners, the twinkle in her eye and the slight eagerness in her movements.

"You know, if I were a suspicious woman," Madgella offered, "I'd say you purposely cooked my breakfasts wrong… to get me out of the house."

It was a suspicion that was more than doubled when Madgella got to her favorite breakfast spot, to find her friends already sitting down to their customary once-a-week social breakfast.

Madgella had lost track of the date.

Or perhaps she hadn't bothered to write it down in the first place.

"I thought you said you weren't coming," said Jimennali — but she radiated warmth when she said it. They all did, a gentle summer breeze wafting through the room with their words.

Jimennali called over to the waiter, who quickly set up another place at the table for Madgella.

Pwouia munched on a lightly braised kiypio wing. "It's that idiot pet of yours, again, isn't it?" she guessed. Gesturing at Sunshine, who'd settled down on the pet-stool beside Madgella. "She messed up your breakfast."

"Yes," Madgella said, sitting down herself. She stole a glance at Sunshine. "Funny how her breakfasts are always so drastically worse on social-breakfast days."

Sunshine bore her teeth, again — her face glowing.

And Madgella pat her head, fondly.

Smart mammal.

"You know, I've got the perfect replacement for you, Madgella," Callea said, from across the table, as she carefully carved the flyciax on her plate. "Fresh from Vedhor, and the most intelligent thing you'll ever see. They say whatever you feel, she picks up on it right away — and reacts to it before you realize you had the emotion to begin with! Rumors are, if you're dreaming of eating something, while you're asleep, the moment you wake up — she'll have it cooked and ready for you."

"That's ridiculous," Jimennali replied. "No mammal can do that!"

A little puff of smugness came off Callea, like a hint of hot air. "I'm telling you, this new research project at Vedhor's gonna spoil us all. Some day… all the pets will be like that."

"And they're researching things like that, instead of investigating where all this violence is coming from?" Jimennali turned back to her food. "Some people!"

"It's a waste of money," Pwouia agreed.

"And an invasion of privacy," Jimennali added. "My dreams are my own, thank you."

Madgella took advantage of their absorption in their conversation, so she could slip some food down to Sunshine.

She always wondered, during these kinds of conversations, just how much Sunshine could understand. And what Sunshine made of it all.

Madgella didn't know where Sunshine came from, or how she'd wound up in the hands of Dr. Kryvoyar, but… one thing Madgella was fairly certain of… was that her pet had never been to Vedhor.

And Madgella aimed to keep it that way.

"Better an invasion of privacy than a pet like Madgella's," Callea replied. She waved her hand in Sunshine's direction. "She's not just stupid, you know — she's emotionally blind. Half of what Madgella feels goes straight over her head."

"She's hardly 'stupid'," Madgella muttered, as her own food arrived.

But it was clear from the currents in the air that none of them believed her. And were even a little annoyed that she persisted in the point.

"She's too small to defend you, personally," said Pwouia. "She's terrible at cooking, cleaning, organizational work, doesn't have a clue how to do standard pet-tasks around the—"

"That's defining 'stupidity' very narrowly," Madgella argued. "Sunshine might not have shown up in my house knowing what the mammals from Vedhor know, but she's still smart." She paused, thinking. "In fact… I think she's brilliant."

Madgella didn't need to sense the pity and amusement from her friends at this remark to know it was there.

She didn't think they'd ever understand.

"Listen, Madgella — we're all very happy you've finally found something to fuss over and care about, to bring you out of your… cloudy patch." Jimennila took a drink. "We just think you should have another around who can actually take care of you."

"Madgella doesn't need another pet," Pwouia argued, "she just needs to properly discipline her current one."

"She needs to get her current one brain surgery, more like," Callea corrected. She waved her flyciax, on the spear-fork, to make a point. "I'm not kidding about 'emotionally blind'. It's as if she has to focus really hard to pick up on anything we don't spell out for her in words!"

And sometimes, Madgella knew… Sunshine didn't pick up on the words, either. Like every so often, she couldn't understand what had been said. Madgella had once pondered if perhaps Sunshine, when she first arrived, was actually trying to work out words like the language was a puzzle.

But dismissed it, because it was impossible.

Everyone spoke the same language. How could she be from somewhere that didn't speak it?

"Trust me, Madgella — she's a botched science experiment," Callea concluded. "From the Vedhor labs."

Sunshine visibly started at the phrase 'botched science experiment'.

Madgella pet her hair, gently, until she calmed down.

"Now, Grassdew, on the other hand, is a wonder," Callea went on. "Yesterday, I spent half the afternoon arguing with Taeik, from the music shop. And I came home tense and tired and worn out. Next thing I knew — without having to tell him a word — Grassdew was running me a bath."

"You were at the music shop?" said Jimennila. She leaned over, lowered her voice. "Don't tell me Taeik's still having that affair with the shoe-shine lady, what's her name?"

They carried on like this.

The way they always did.

Back before the… the… night that destroyed Madgella's life forever…

(She didn't want to think about it.)

…Madgella had gossiped and gabbled in just the same way. So many petty little concerns, and they'd all seemed so big to her, once upon a time.

Now?

What did it matter who was having an affair with whom, or what Fasioli said last Tuesday about Jimennila's dress, or how much it cost to get a decent pair of shoes these days?

Madgella would trade in all of it to undo that night.

Bring back the dead.

She finished her breakfast, ready to head back home. A light drizzle sprang up overhead, and Madgella figured if she didn't retreat pretty soonish, she'd have the Weather Patrols after her.

But Sunshine was having none of it.

"No, Sunshine! I said back home!" Madgella yelped, trying to yank the leash and drag Sunshine back. But Sunshine had always been surprisingly strong for her size, and Madgella instead found herself dragged off towards the sunlit park.

The drizzle cleared up.

As Madgella struggled to get her pet under control.

Thing was, when Sunshine finally stopped wrenching her places, Madgella felt better. Out in the sunlight, where she could be warm and feel alive again, it made something happy hum deep down inside.

"I guess you do need some play-time," Madgella decided.

She leaned down, and disconnected the leash from Sunshine's collar. Sunshine darted out towards the open field, racing around with all the other pets. Madgella watched, from the side, as Sunshine began to gesture wildly at a male mammal, as if furiously miming a series of words.

Madgella was always curious about Sunshine's interactions with the other pets.

Sunshine's actions were never quite the same, but they were always wild and vibrant and emotive — much like Sunshine herself. She always came away with another peculiar expression on her face, and Madgella could rarely figure out what emotional state they represented.

"That's a very strange pet you have," said a man beside her, as he let loose his own pet to play in the field. "I've never seen them act so… energetic."

"Not 'energetic'," Madgella replied. "She's… got something more than that." She tried to think of how to phrase it, eyes still glued to the small blond figure in the field. "She's every storm, every burst of dawn, every gentle breeze and every ray of sunlight shooting through the clouds — all wrapped up together."

The man was amused.

"She's big, inside — big like the world," Madgella said. "And her actions are big. No reading my emotions to produce small gestures like food or clothing or baths. She forgets little things, ignores errands, burns food and refuses to do chores that — I think — she finds degrading."

"I… see," said the man.

Madgella could feel confusion in his words.

The same confusion anyone else felt, when they saw just how useless Sunshine was at standard pet-activities.

"But when I was about to fade away," Madgella said, "she saved my life."

The sun emerged from a cloud, shimmering down onto the park.

"And she keeps me alive, day after day," Madgella concluded. "I'll never forget that."

The man, now clearly uneasy and not understanding what Madgella was talking about, excused himself to chase after his pet. He dragged his pet away from Sunshine, and then — with a glance back at Madgella — led his pet away.

"They never understand, do they?" Madgella said, to herself.

"I think I do," said an unfamiliar voice.

As someone new emerged out of the shadows. Someone who looked… just the slightest bit awkward, like his movements were disjointed and a little too slow. And whose emotional ambience was…

Missing.

"Are you from the East?" Madgella asked. She'd heard the Weather Patrollers had been having problems with the East. And her general impression of easterners was that the vast majority were ill-bred hicks and farmers.

"Yes," the man put in, quickly. "New in town. I think I've heard of you, though — Madgella, right?" He held out his hand, paused, then — hesitantly — took it back. "Call me Dave."