Xam

Xam
Leatherworker, Chef's Assistant

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I don't mind most of it.

I mean, not really. The cleaning's not so bad. Or keeping their leathers oiled and their armors polished. And the cooking--well, not that they let me actually cook. But scrubbing the pots and pans, that's okay...sometimes there's even something I can eat still stuck to the bottom, and that's really good.

Because I'm always so hungry.

And I build the cooking fires, too. I've gotten good at that. It's a lot better now that I've gotten faster at getting the fire going--they don't shove me into it anymore, like they did when I was slow. They don't let me serve them the food anymore either, though, not since they figured out I was sneaking bits from the plates.

I miss that.

And digging out a place for the latrine, whenever we're going to be camped for awhile, that's all right. I can dig, I even kind of like digging, feeling the earth grind up beneath my claws. But it's hard work.

And I'm always so tired.

But when I do everything right, and fast enough, sometimes they toss me scraps of food straight off their plates. And oh, that's so good.

Other times, they make me do something else first, like roll in mud, or bark like a hainu, or run around in a circle while they wager on which one can best hit me with rocks. I don't care, as long as it gets me food. And if it makes them laugh, the good kind of laugh, they might even set down a whole bowl of leftovers for me. Those are the best times.

The bad kind of laugh, though...that kind means danger. They laugh like that when they've been drinking a lot, or if I've done something wrong. Like when I knocked over a big platter of meat, and one of them took a pot from over the fire, and dumped it on me.

They laughed like that then. You wouldn't think water could burn worse than fire, but it did.

And then they didn't even eat the meat, said it was spoiled, when it was only a little dirty. One of them kicked it into the fire. Watching that meat burn to ash hurt almost as much as the burns on me did.

But I got some of it. Later, when I could move again, I snuck away with some meat that had only touched the edge of the fire. It was pretty rotten by then, but I got some. That was dangerous, though...and I need to be careful. I try not to do dangerous things. Or even think dangerous thoughts, because I'm afraid they'll know.

Lately, though, they haven't been feeding me. At all.

They also haven't been paying as much attention to me. I even got into the food stores, and didn't get caught. But there wasn't actually any food left. They don't hunt much now, and when they do, they eat everything as soon as the hunters get back with it. They're all so busy with their raiding and fighting--someone fought back, and it must've been someone strong, because some of them are wounded. They're so busy, they're not paying attention.

So I've been thinking of leaving.

And that's the most dangerous thought of all--they'd kill me if they knew, I know they would.

But I'm so hungry. And I'm so tired.

I don't know where I would go. They never let me learn to hunt, or to fight. I don't know how I would find food on my own, or protect myself from dangerous things that would never come anywhere near them. Maybe I could join another clan, but I'm not good at much of anything, other than building fires and digging ditches and scrubbing things clean.

Would anyone else have a use for that? I don't know. And oh, stop, just stop--these are dangerous thoughts, and I need to stop thinking them.

But they're not paying attention to me.

And I know I'll never have a better chance.

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Best friend: Nadelnase
Other close friends: Caelen, Alexander, Liliet, Navani, Wag, Rue, BLT, Lunch