Wow, that sucked

Hello Earthlings,

I think that it's a good thing that I'm writing things that are so hard for me to express and heart me so much to put into words.  That said, the first bit of Mongrel has really put me through the ringer and now I need a little break.  I'm going to post what I've got so far but expect another posting tonight as I am still 2500 words from my goal for today.

Random factoid: I have this deep and abiding fear that as I sit here with my big ol' whopping earphones on, writing and listening to classical music, I'm breathing really loud and annoying everyone else in the store.  I don't seem to breathe loud when I have the earphones off, but I can't shake the paranoia.


Every morning thereafter, when she saw Master Athanaric, she would gaze at him pleadingly.  She suspected that he was aware of how miserable she was under Hayl’s attention, and each morning she saw him stare with those large, inky black eyes, not at her but through her.  Each morning, he would give a resigned shake of his head, tell her where to take her flock, and move on to the next Herder.  
Rosie had stroked her hair and consoled her.  “They can’t tell immediately, you know.  It takes a month or so before even the masters can sense the child within you.  You could be carrying already and the unborn is just growing big enough within you for Master Athanaric to feel.  Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if tonight was Hayl’s last night with you!  ...for now.”
As Rosie foretold, the next morning, Mastar Athanaric’s gaze lingered on her much longer than before and he lifted a thrice jointed arm to pat her head and tell her that she was very good and that Hayl would not need to see her for the next year.  Daisy’s relief was palpable.
The downside, she quickly learned, was that, while he had very attentive and consoling while she was undergoing the attentions of Hayl, Jack seemed to back off entirely from her when he learned that she was pregnant.  He did not come to visit her during her herding anymore and, when they happened to pass at the estate, his pale yellow eyes would study her intently, but then he would walk on without a word.  She thought she should be more upset by the fact, and she was heartbroken in many ways, but she understood.  She was a breeder now and belonged to Hayl.  It was better to cut their connection now, rather than let it linger painfully.
She found consolation in the life within her.  She had not given much thought to being a mother, before it became reality.  She had been too overwhelmed by the precursor to contemplate the result.  Rosie seemed to consider it a burden and complained about the time when she would be pulled from herding duty because she would be too large to adequately protect the flock or because the infant would be too fragile to take with her.  Daisy, however, found herself fantasizing about the little one she carried and running her fingers over her belly constantly, trying in her way to tell the new life that she loved it.
She had grown nicely round when Rosie birthed her child; a very vocal baby girl with a pretty pattern of spots like her mother.  The Master, in a fit of humor, called the child Bud, as a play on her mother’s name.  Rosie became quite proud of her daughter and the potential that she possessed, vowing that she would one day be a prize-winning Herder like her grandfather.
Not long after that, Daisy was taken from her herding duties and was able to stay at the estate with Rosie and Bud.  Mistress Ayodelle came around more often, as well, loving to coo over Daisy’s tiny niece and feel Daisy’s own offspring move.  If Daisy’s back hurt from the ungainly weight on her front, Mistress Ayodelle was quite happy to help her with the light touch of her long fingers, sending soothing pulsations through her skin.  
She was sitting in her chair, knitting another pair of socks for her baby- Rosie insisted that she had made more socks than any child could ever wear- when she felt the first pang.  It did not take long before it was much, much more than a pang.  
Rosie had finally been able to take Bud out herding with her, so Daisy hefted herself to her feet and began the long waddle to the birthing room.  She was surprised that she wasn’t more excited or terrified in that moment, but it seemed that her emotions had gone on hold as she focused on the job at hand.  Get somewhere safe and make sure that her baby was ok.
She was intercepted by Mistress Ayodelle who had been on her way to sit with Daisy for a bit.  She took one look at the Herder and comprehended the situation.  She carefully wrapped a long, pale arm around Daisy’s shoulder and walked with her out of the Herders’ cabin and towards the small building just behind the main estate that had been designated for medical issues.  
They were met by Cara, the massive, shaggy-haired Faylinger who seemed to be under the impression that she was everyone’s mother, including the masters.  She cooed at the smaller Daisy and practically carried her into the birthing area of the medical building.  Daisy thought that Mistress Ayodelle would leave, but she remained for the entire time, occassionally stroking Daisy’s forehead and making the pain more bearable.
Many hours later, sweaty and crying, Daisy gave birth to a daughter.  Cara took one look at the infant and nearly dropped her.  Mistress Ayodelle took the babe into her safer grip, studying the softly squalling creature with a great deal of curiosity.  Daisy, exhausted, lifted her head and, in a hoarse voice, asked, “What is going on?”
She got no response, but saw Cara stick her head through the curtain into the main portion of the medical building and heard her whisper urgently to someone on the other side, “Fetch the Master.  Swiftly now.”
Turning to Mistress Ayodelle, who had always been kind to her, Daisy pleaded, “What is wrong?  Is she hurt?  Sick?”
Wordlessly, Mistress Ayodelle approached and held the newborn down so that Daisy could see her.  She seemed to have all of her fingers and toes in place, and they were wiggling angrily at the cold air on her sensitive new skin.  A gentle smile of adoration spread across Daisy’s face as she immediately fell in love with the babe, despite the gore that still covered her and turned her skin an odd shade of gray.  
Then, her daughter opened her eyes and looked back at her.  Daisy’s breath caught.  Pale, yellow eyes.  Suddenly, other bits of information filtered into her mind.  Her face was rounder than a normal Herder infant, more like that of a West Barrow Hunter infant, though not quite.  Her legs were slightly too long.  Her spots were paler and she had none of the white splotches that interrupted nearly every Hunter’s gray skin.
Time froze as she stared at the strange little face staring back at her.  Mistress Ayodelle said nothing and Cara paced in the corner, anxiously.  Her daughter was an abomination.  A half-breed and certainly not to be tolerated.  If she was fortunate, the innocent life would immediately be extinguished.  If she was not so lucky, she would be sold to the doctors for experimentation or, even worse, given over to the human fighters that no one spoke of but everyone knew about.  Her parents would certainly fare no better for the indiscretion of breeding outside of a master’s control.
She lifted a shaking hand towards the tiny girl, still loving her with all of her heart, perhaps even more now than she had before.  She had intended to ask if she might touch her, perhaps even hold her, but before she had a chance, the Master, Mistress Ayodelle’s father himself, burst through the flimsy birthing room curtain.  The veins beneath his semi-translucent skin were so tight with anger that he appeared nearly blue in color.  She had never seen anything so terrible.
He turned to his daughter and held out a hand.  He spoke to her through the strange telepathy that Daisy never quite understood, but could recognize by the soft humming he made as he did so.  Daisy’s fingers twisted painfully in the blanket upon which she lay as she prepared to watch her daughter’s neck wrung before her eyes.
Instead, though, Mistress Ayodelle stepped back from her father and tightened her grip on the baby.  She cast a quick glance at Daisy and, aloud, said, “No.”
Master Abidan’s veins flushed with surprise and he spoke again in the psychic manner of his species.  
“You said that I could have a human baby,” Mistress Ayodelle explained, calmly.  “And I want this one.”  She listened to her father’s response and then said, still speaking aloud for Daisy’s benefit.  “I don’t care if she is a mongrel.  I don’t need a show human or a working human, and I like the way she looks.”
Master Abidan replied with a gesture towards Daisy that, though she couldn’t understand the words, sent a chill of terror down her spine.  Mistress Ayodelle hung her head and softly replied, “I know.  But I still want this one.  Please, Father?”
Daisy shivered with fear as the exchange between father and daughter concluded.  She felt a sick sense of relief as Mistress Ayodelle, without another look at Daisy, wrapped the newborn infant in a blanket and carried her out of the room.  She hesitated and, just before leaving, said, “I think that I will call her Lali.”
“Lali is a good name,” Daisy said, softly, as Mistress Ayodelle carried her daughter away.  Then she raised her eyes to the enormous figure of the Master, standing tall to his full height of ten feet and seven inches as he stared down at her in profound disapproval.  
He spoke aloud and Daisy realized that she had never heard him do so in her nearly four years on the estate.  “Who is the father?”
A wealth of information passed through Daisy’s mind in a moment then and she realized a number of things simultaneously.  The first was that she was doomed.  She would die today and nothing could prevent that.  With realization that no amount of begging or pleading could save her, came a strange sort of distant acceptance.  This was followed by the second realization that her daughter was not doomed.  Her little baby- her Lali, would live.  This gave her a sense of satisfaction and peace in her own death.  The final realization was that the Master did not know who Lali’s father was and would only know if Daisy told him.  
Daisy had never defied a master before.  Indeed, the very concept of defying a master was almost unthinkable.  But with that third, key realization, so came the bone-deep intention.  She would die, but she would not take her Jack with her.  
“Human, you will tell me who fathered that mongrel,” the Master said, stepping close.  Daisy’s only response was to hang her head in silence.
She maintained her silence as the Master dragged her birth-sore and nude body from the medical building.  She maintained her silence as she was hauled to a dark clearing beneath the trees of the forest and punished relentlessly, both through physical blows and as the Master sent searing blades of torture through her very mind.  Daisy had never considered herself to be a brave or valuable human, but as her little heart finally gave out and she sank into oblivion, she managed one last weak twinge of pride that her silence had remained unbroken.