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<span class="mu-s">Somewhere far away, on the cradle of humanity…</span>
Wind brushed gently through the canopy overhead as the girl worked with unsteady fingers to pin up her dark hair. <span class="mu-i">Always trouble with this part.</span> She thought silently to herself, already done pinning one braid into a tight bun but struggling with the second in the early morning dark. Bruised fingers do not work well in a hurry, and she could already hear her owner beginning to awaken within his tent. Failing to look presentable, even out here in the jungle so far from the port, would only invite further beatings. Just moments before the vile man stirred awake, the girl had finished preparing herself.
“Girl,” The repulsive man grumbled, the first sound out of him this morning beyond the snores of a dying animal. One of his arms blindly patted against the inside of his tent, pressing against the heavy fabric. He had been sick for two days, a fever medicine has done little to help, swarthy skin slowly yellowing; he has needed help rising in the morning since it came upon him, though his strength has returned each day as the hours creep by, “Girl, here! <span class="mu-i">Lalah!</span>”
“I am here.” The girl answered obediently, inside the cramped tent and at the man’s side at once, dropping to her knees so as to better help him out from the sleeping bag. Nearby, the others began to stir within their tents as well, grumbling men rising slowly and bringing the poorly planned camp to life, a few checking their weapons. None wished to be here, in this middle place between destinations, a wild place still left upon the earth even after so many millennia of unchecked human expansion.
“...I don’t smell food. Where is my breakfast?” The man growled as the girl pulled back the sheet covering him and strained to help him rise. Anger flashed in the man’s dark eyes, and a heavy hand rose and fell - but the girl was no longer there. A reflex, an intuition, a <span class="mu-i">mistake</span>. The second slap found her even as the first was avoided, sending her tumbling out of the tent and crying out in pain. Even weakened by illness, the man was far stronger. What is a young girl to do against such a man’s cruelty? Lalah collected herself quickly, half muttering apologies and hurrying toward the small camping stove nearby. Failing to light it on the first attempt, she felt a jolt of fear, half expecting another strike from one of the men - but they had already begun to argue about their business in the jungle.
