“Wolf,” I managed to get out. My voice sounded guttural, choking. “I want the wolf.”
“You certain, boy? He’s a mean one.” He nudged the cage with his foot and I sprang at it, clashing my teeth against the wooden bars, bruising my muzzle again, but I didn’t care, if I could get just one grip on his flesh, I’d tear it loose or never let go.
No. Get back, get out of my head. I shook my head to clear it. The merchant regarded me strangely. “I know what I want.” I spoke flatly, refusing the wolf’s emotions.
“Do you, eh?” The man stared at me, judging my worth. He’d charge what he thought I could afford. My outgrown clothes didn’t please him, nor my youth. But I surmised he’d had the wolf for a while. He’d hoped to sell him as a cub. Now, with the wolf needing more food and not getting it, the man would probably take whatever he could get. As well for me. I didn’t have much. “What do you want him for?” the man asked casually.
“Pits,” I said nonchalantly. “He’s scrawny, but there might be a bit of sport left in him.”
The wolf suddenly flung himself against the bars, jaws wide, teeth flashing. I’ll kill them, I’ll kill them all, rip their throats out, tear their bellies open ….
Be silent, if you want your freedom. I mentally gave him a push and the wolf leaped back as if stung by a bee. He retreated to the far corner of his cage and cowered there, teeth bared, but tail down between his legs. Uncertainty flooded him.
“Dog fights, eh? Oh, he’ll put up a good fight.” The merchant nudged at the cage again with a thick boot, but the wolf didn’t respond. “He’ll win you a lot of coin, this one will. He’s meaner than a wolverine.” He kicked the cage, harder. The wolf cowered smaller.