The next day, early in the morning.
The two fake slaves were still in the cage, after spending a sleepless night huddled together. They ate nothing and barely drank from the muddy water that the tenant provided them with a dirty bucket.
"Thia, are you okay?" Jorael asked, making sure of his companion's condition.
"Oh shoot... I just closed my eyes without knowing it, but it's hard to sleep like this..." Cyn'Thia answered in a tired tone.
"I hope they found something so we can..." he was saying before being interrupted by the slaver who came and hit him with the metal bar while exclaiming:
"Son of a flying rat, you are so talkative early in the morning, huh?
I bet if I hit a little more, you'll stop talking, hahaha!"
The tenant struck him violently several times with the club, delivering violent blows through the bars.
"Stop, please...
