The events of the following day were not pleasant. D was dragged from a
deep sleep by a pair of men who wrestled him bodily out of the chamber.
The struggle would have lasted longer if they hadn't managed to manacle his
hands together. Unable to maneuver as quickly, D was forced to allow them
to shove him down the hallway like a dog on a leash. The hand-cuffs
prevented him from walking on all fours, humiliation beginning to burn in
his cheeks as they made him shuffle along on his back legs like a human.
It was extremely troublesome and it hurt his spine to stretch so far
upward. The soles of his feet were arched improperly for walking and he
lacked the coordination to balance himself. D's hatred for men grew by the
second.
Eventually they came to a large room tiled from top to bottom with polished white squares. A line of stalls stretched across the west wall, and it was to these that he was led. A soft growl bubbled in D's throat as his suspicion rose. He was shoved roughly into one of the stalls, where the two humans pulled his dog skin from him, revealing soft pink flesh beneath. D's growl became a hiss and then an outraged snarl as he lunged to recover the pelt. His fingernails caught on the fur just as they managed to yank it away, causing them to split and tear. The boy cried out in pain and fury as his fingers bled from the loss of their nails. The men took that opportunity to slam the stall door shut and lock it in place.
D hurled himself against the door, which was a clear pane of thick glass, his body making a sick 'thud' on impact. Confused and further humiliated, he scratched frantically at the glass as the two men stared, safe on the other side. His hands left smeary trails of blood on the pane as he continued to beat it, crimson stains smudging on his bare skin and in his hair. His anger soon exhausted him, and he slid down to his haunches on the cold tile, staring daggers at the men as he breathed heavily. Ribs poked from his sides and knots of muscles rippled on his arms. The glass reflected a dim apparition of himself, showing the boy just what he had feared. Stripped down to his core, he was merely a hunched pink thing, without hair, ears, nor tail. Red-ringed pupils glared back at him above a stubby nose and a thin mouth. D lowered his head, unshed tears stinging in his eyes. The men had torn away his pride, his identity, and his very being. He curled up against the side of the unfamiliar, cold tiles of the stall and wept.
"You can't have lost your spirit this quickly, Wild One."
D turned as the deep voice echoed throughout the room. At the entrance he saw a man approach with unkempt green hair and black attire. He recognized him as the same human that had stolen him from the desert on the back of a horse.
Suddenly, a fine spray of water began to rain down on him, causing D to yelp and scramble about in the claustrophobic stall. He was trapped and there was no way he could escape the water, which was devastatingly cold. Thin silver hair matted down around his eyes and ears. D expressed his hatred of this strange treatment with a low snarl and a howl that rung throughout the bathroom.
To his surprise, he was answered back by a gentler yip. Blinking droplets from his eyes, D stared through the glass past the tall man's shoulder and discovered the Dog-Man from before behind him.
"You won't be hurt. This is just a bath," the other explained.
D found that explanation hard to believe. Water was a luxury that the Wild Dog's rarely got to partake of. Baths were either a roll in the sand or a friendly tongue. This was just plain horrible. He was drenched, shivering, and stuck in a tall box-like container. D decided early on that he had a strong dislike for water.
Suddenly, he felt Jajuka's large paws wrap around his waist gently. D was too startled to react quick enough to dodge, and it was likely he would have ended up slipping anyway. The Beast man put a rough cloth to D's back and moved it about up and down with gentle care. It felt much the same as his mother's tongue, though larger and wetter, and had the effect of calming the boy in this unfamiliar environment.
Folken seemed pleased with the situation, as he soon left Jajuka to finish unsupervised. The experience wasn't as agonizing with the men gone and the dog-man worked quickly to spare him of spending more time in the water chamber. Finally, Jajuka withdrew from the shower door and allowed D to come out into the main section of the bathroom.
"Careful," he cautioned in their language, "The tile is slippery."
D set a hand outside of the horrid water box and slowly brought his other limbs over the threshold. He rather disliked being wet, especially without his dog skin, as it left him cold and matted his silver hair about his neck and face. He set himself to the task of shaking vigorously to rid himself of the water. Jajuka seemed amused by this action that he considered perfectly normal.
"What's so funny?" D snapped, a lock of hair hanging over his right eye. The dog man's laughter was a low rumble in his throat, and his gaze was a twinkle. He tossed a large towel over D in reply, and turned to leave. The boy yipped in surprise and struggled until he could poke his head from the towel and see Jajuka heading towards the door.
"Learn to walk upright," Jajuka said, turning his head to grin at D. "Or else you'll never be able to look me in the eye." The rumbling laughter came again mingled with a snort as D grudgingly began rubbing himself dry.
Eventually they came to a large room tiled from top to bottom with polished white squares. A line of stalls stretched across the west wall, and it was to these that he was led. A soft growl bubbled in D's throat as his suspicion rose. He was shoved roughly into one of the stalls, where the two humans pulled his dog skin from him, revealing soft pink flesh beneath. D's growl became a hiss and then an outraged snarl as he lunged to recover the pelt. His fingernails caught on the fur just as they managed to yank it away, causing them to split and tear. The boy cried out in pain and fury as his fingers bled from the loss of their nails. The men took that opportunity to slam the stall door shut and lock it in place.
D hurled himself against the door, which was a clear pane of thick glass, his body making a sick 'thud' on impact. Confused and further humiliated, he scratched frantically at the glass as the two men stared, safe on the other side. His hands left smeary trails of blood on the pane as he continued to beat it, crimson stains smudging on his bare skin and in his hair. His anger soon exhausted him, and he slid down to his haunches on the cold tile, staring daggers at the men as he breathed heavily. Ribs poked from his sides and knots of muscles rippled on his arms. The glass reflected a dim apparition of himself, showing the boy just what he had feared. Stripped down to his core, he was merely a hunched pink thing, without hair, ears, nor tail. Red-ringed pupils glared back at him above a stubby nose and a thin mouth. D lowered his head, unshed tears stinging in his eyes. The men had torn away his pride, his identity, and his very being. He curled up against the side of the unfamiliar, cold tiles of the stall and wept.
"You can't have lost your spirit this quickly, Wild One."
D turned as the deep voice echoed throughout the room. At the entrance he saw a man approach with unkempt green hair and black attire. He recognized him as the same human that had stolen him from the desert on the back of a horse.
Suddenly, a fine spray of water began to rain down on him, causing D to yelp and scramble about in the claustrophobic stall. He was trapped and there was no way he could escape the water, which was devastatingly cold. Thin silver hair matted down around his eyes and ears. D expressed his hatred of this strange treatment with a low snarl and a howl that rung throughout the bathroom.
To his surprise, he was answered back by a gentler yip. Blinking droplets from his eyes, D stared through the glass past the tall man's shoulder and discovered the Dog-Man from before behind him.
"You won't be hurt. This is just a bath," the other explained.
D found that explanation hard to believe. Water was a luxury that the Wild Dog's rarely got to partake of. Baths were either a roll in the sand or a friendly tongue. This was just plain horrible. He was drenched, shivering, and stuck in a tall box-like container. D decided early on that he had a strong dislike for water.
Suddenly, he felt Jajuka's large paws wrap around his waist gently. D was too startled to react quick enough to dodge, and it was likely he would have ended up slipping anyway. The Beast man put a rough cloth to D's back and moved it about up and down with gentle care. It felt much the same as his mother's tongue, though larger and wetter, and had the effect of calming the boy in this unfamiliar environment.
Folken seemed pleased with the situation, as he soon left Jajuka to finish unsupervised. The experience wasn't as agonizing with the men gone and the dog-man worked quickly to spare him of spending more time in the water chamber. Finally, Jajuka withdrew from the shower door and allowed D to come out into the main section of the bathroom.
"Careful," he cautioned in their language, "The tile is slippery."
D set a hand outside of the horrid water box and slowly brought his other limbs over the threshold. He rather disliked being wet, especially without his dog skin, as it left him cold and matted his silver hair about his neck and face. He set himself to the task of shaking vigorously to rid himself of the water. Jajuka seemed amused by this action that he considered perfectly normal.
"What's so funny?" D snapped, a lock of hair hanging over his right eye. The dog man's laughter was a low rumble in his throat, and his gaze was a twinkle. He tossed a large towel over D in reply, and turned to leave. The boy yipped in surprise and struggled until he could poke his head from the towel and see Jajuka heading towards the door.
"Learn to walk upright," Jajuka said, turning his head to grin at D. "Or else you'll never be able to look me in the eye." The rumbling laughter came again mingled with a snort as D grudgingly began rubbing himself dry.