Snippet #2438844

Zack's mind was foggy, but the fog was already starting to clear. He guessed that they forget that he had been here for 13 years, he had started building a tolerance to the drugs. They didn't give him enough to keep him docile for more than two hours or so. In an attempt to focus his thoughts, Zack examined the man who had bought him, and what seemed to be one of his slaves. Mostly on the slave girl, because she didn't look right to be a slave. He didn't notice when the man walked away, because he was so focused on her.

Unlike every other slave that Zack had met, she looked healthy. She was well fed, well clothed, and looked almost happy. If Zack wasn't a slave himself, he wouldn't be able to tell what she was. But he was so he saw the signs. He broke his gaze when the man returned. He said something to the girl and it took Zack's brain a moment to register it. But when he did, he realized he needed to stand up. He didn't want to be a bother to his master, especially on the first day.

He didn't say anything, not wanting to make him angry. Instead Zack forced his drugged body to his feet, standing impressively stable. His stubborn nature was kicking in. He took a huge risk and decided to speak. "I think I can walk." He said softly.