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Warmth enveloped her heavy limbs, and a dull light edged her eyes open bit by bit - the world was fuzzy and the blurred colours were rich. Sounds now - the scrape, scrape, scrape of something far off, almost otherworldly, accompanied by a quiet, low hum that was almost a growl.

"A-a-a, a-a-a, byly sobie kotki dwa," the voice near-purred. "Ah-ah-ah, two little kittens ... "

"Both were greyish brown," she mumbled, eyes flickering open.
After a few moments of blurred colours and shapes, her eyes rested on a tall figure perched at the end of her bed. She thought he had two black eyes for a moment, before she noted they were markings, along with a stripe over his crooked, broken nose. Like the man who had carried her, he was tall and muscular, but looked older, grey flecking his dark blond hair in places.

"Yes, that's correct. I can't remember past that bit, though. Two kittens, aj," he said in that rumbling voice, a growl trapped at the back of his throat. "Do you think I'm like a kitten, human? Other humans did. They thought they could keep me as their pet. See the scars from where the collar cut into my throat? The number on my arm?"
He leant his head back, gently drawing a claw over the pale, curved lines around his thick neck. They looped like a choker, cutting a neat path in two places in the thick mane down the back of his neck.

"You're lucky that my family even bothered to save your ass. If it wasn't slavers chasing you, we would have left you there. My brother who took you here, Radomir, he's not like me at all. Even fighting beside so-called 'civil humans' as a resistance fighter, I never felt much camaraderie."

Forcing herself to sit up and get a proper look of him, she shrank back a little, glancing feverishly left and right for a weapon - that shink-shink-shink earlier was the man sharpening a combat knife, both the serrated area near the handle, and the sharper area further up the blade gleaming under the soft orange light of the room they were in. His yellowed teeth, which matched his smoker's breath, glinted as well as he slowly grinned, watching her with near-unblinking light brown eyes in the same way a cat watches a mouse. She wrinkled her nose at the stench of stale tobacco and sneezed, frowning uncertainly at him. With a sudden movement, he sheathed his combat knife. She flinched and curled her hands into fists, glaring when he burst into laughter as harsh as a crow's cackle.

"Do you know my position in this tribe? I am an interrogator. They sent me up here to check you, ask you things. They could have sent my Kajetan - he lashes out much more than I do. I just need to ask you questions. Whether you co-operate is up to you, but it has bearing on your health, let's say," he said with a grin that once again revealed those sharp teeth.

"Kajetan?" she asked quietly, trying to figure if it was one of their dialect words for a certain occupation.
She chewed her lip and slid further up the bed once more, but still his predatory gaze bored into her.

"What's a Kajetan?"
Closer now to the polished metal tray with a scalpel on, just a little stretch to the right and she could purloin it, hand grasping the cold metal, perhaps slicing over that tanned face with its broken, distinctively striped nose.

"Who is Kajetan, you mean. My friend. We were in the war together, crewed a tank - Kasia - together as resistance fighters, were slaves together. He's got a temper and a half on him, so be thankful you're dealing with me, is all I'm saying," he said.
His gaze flickered to the door for a second and she took her chance, scrabbling at the tray and grabbing the scalpel, brandishing it as if she was back in fencing class.
Within a blink of an eye, he picked a heavy old carbine up from where it sat at his side and aimed, growling. The sound shook her bones, louder than that of a dog, vicious and low.

"Put it down before I am forced to shoot you," he said slowly, before yelling something in his dialect, pale brown eyes still focused on the girl.

"No. You were sharpening your knife, and basically told me you're a torturer," she said, her voice trembling like her body. She tightened her grip on the surgical instrument and glared hard at the tall man, nearly making a growling sound that would mirror his in some respects.
The door swung open, slamming against the wall, and a similarly tall man - perhaps a bit shorter than the interrogator - charged in, snarling. His short mohawk, following up from his mane, stood on end like an angry cat's fur, and his face carried a few more scars than the other man's.

"That's Kajetan," the man said before rattling something off to him in those odd, lyrical words. They seemed a little softer than orders, more like requests.

"Tak, bratic," the other replied with a broad grin, aiming down the sights of a tactical shotgun at the girl whilst his friend headed for the girl, one hand free, the other clutching his trench knife.

She struggled to get up, before remembering her foot was heavy in a cast and yelping when it rolled to one side. Blindly, the girl slashed, catching the man's arm a little - he didn't even seem to notice, grabbing her wrist and brutally twisting until the scalpel was dropped. The sharp blade of his knife drew a thin line of blood across her throat, cold steel slicing into her warm skin, and he held it there until she stopped struggling, looking up at him with wide rabbit eyes, heartbeat racing.

"You are a very stupid little girl," he said, slowly taking his knife away and moving the instruments onto a shelf near to him before turning to his friend and murmuring something, nipping his ear. The snarl wound down to a soft purr and Kajetan nuzzled to the other man's neck, stroking his hair.

"I certainly don't trust you any more. Both of us will be in here, so we can both watch you, idiot girl."

Tears of frustration and pain welled up in her eyes as she felt at the shallow, bleeding cut across her throat with her good hand, the twisted one resting on her lap for now, crumpled as a dead spider. Their eyes fixed on her as they spoke quietly - she could pick out the odd word, but some endings seemed different, and there was a change in which they pronounced some letters and sounds to how they did the standard Polish. She gathered 'bratic' was in fact 'brat', brother, as Kajetan licked the blood off his friend's cut arm, cooing something about his bratic in sympathetic tones.

With her good hand, the girl wiped her teary eyes and watched the two some more, noting how the interrogator was cuddled close to Kajetan's side, how they both purred and nuzzled, much like the kittens the interrogator sang about earlier.
"You two aren't just friends, are you?"

Kajetan growled at her, his mane and hair standing up again, lip curling like an angry dog's.
"Shut up!" he said.
His teeth were somewhat longer and sharper than the other man's, discoloured yellow as well. The stench of cigarette smoke and tobacco exuded from him, the tips of his fingers stained with nicotine in places. With a careful hand, the other man stroked his shoulder, restraining him at the same time.

"You're incorrect. We're friends. Just ... very close, aj, bratic?" the interrogator said, fondly smiling at his snarling companion before looking back to the girl.
"Now. Introductions. We didn't get very far last time, did we? My name's Kazic, this fine man is Kajetan, as you know. Who are you?"

She paused, debating over giving them her real surname, the thing that got her into this dreadful mess in the first place, in a small room, in a battered old building, with two trained men with guns watching her so closely.
"My name is Filipa Kasimirowicz," she settled with.
Second part of the same chapter as [link]
Kajetan belongs to my lovely friend Jimmy (=DemonRoni), but he gave me permission to use the very moody bastard (: Him and Kazic are the same race (tribals), and I guess you could call them very close friends with benefits. They dislike the idea of ~relationships~ but like physical contact xD

Also, I don't know much Polish at all, so if I get any standard Polish wrong (like the cat song) please tell me. Their tribe's dialect, Krakowica, is probably dissimilar to Polish in the way that Croatian is to Slovenian.
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JimPAVLICA Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2011  Professional Digital Artist

Why is that not commented OR faved by me?
I'm a bad follower :c

Anyway, you know what I think of this.
You got Kajetan's personality perfectly and your writing is just so awesome I keep repeating myself.

Oh, all the things they did together....
bio-mechanic Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2011  Hobbyist Writer

Haha, thanks. Kaj is fun to write. rrrrrrr manlytigrrrrr.

JimPAVLICA Featured By Owner Jun 27, 2011  Professional Digital Artist
We should really stop arsing everywhere, I doubt it's healthy. u_u

And good to know! xD
bio-mechanic Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
That we should e___e

/my Kajetan/
I mentioned cigarettes too much in this. I just wanted to point out that Kaz and Kaj are smelly and GUUURRRL has never been so close to anyone who reeks of sweat and cigarettes and sliwowice.
damn sliwowice.
JimPAVLICA Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2011  Professional Digital Artist
Well they like cigarettes and Sliwowice. c:
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