As everyone sat around the campfire, the crackling of the wood and the distant sound of crickets were the only things breaking the silence.
The meal had filled their stomachs, but the weight of their pasts still hung heavy in the air. One by one, they started telling the stories of how they got in Moyap's slave shop.
The three beastwomen spoke first.
They sat close together, their tails tucked tightly against their legs. They were kidnapped by mercenaries and sold off as they were out to forage for their village. They were looking for simple herbs and berries, never expecting a trap. They weren't combatants—just simple gatherers—so they got caught easily.
"We cannot go back."
One of them whispered, her voice trembling as she stared into the flames.
"If we return, the slave hunters might be able to track us. If they find the village, they will take everyone. We would rather stay lost than put our people in trouble."
