The Olog had been watching the creature from his own cage for quite some time. She looked... quite unlike anything found in Mordor. The ashy shadow lands wouldn’t have forged something so elegant. She was special and Bruce pitied her for that. It was a dangerous thing to be special in Mordor. If one was special, it could go several directions. Best case scenario, a commander wanted a new pet, in which case the poor creature would spend the rest of her days in a cramped cage until the commander’s fascination dissolved to boredom, and starvation and neglect chewed away her body into a slow death. Worst case, the other soldiers would be interested in her, and would poke and prod her to get any interesting reaction. Or more likely, a reaction they could use for battle. Bruce had seen this done to drakes, captured and broken.
At least in Bruce’s case, he knew what pain awaited him each day. The fighting pits were ruthless and merciless, but at least they guaranteed food to the victor. And, thanks to his size and shocking speed, Bruce won quite often.
The Olog mutely watched the creature’s gaze wander about her surroundings before locking with his own. Bruce’s own beady blue eyes stared back— mildly fascinated but not quite as gawking as a few passersby— before turning his attention back to a won meal, which for all his bloodied hide and effort, was only a single femur of some grazing herbivore.
Somedays, one could make food last for as long as one could. So long as the regiment wasn’t changing sites or command, most of the Orcs barely paid much attention to the Bruce, for better or worse. With this new addition, however, everyone was hovering around the Olog’s cage. But Bruce was quick. He often was. And in a second, the bone— with half of the meat remaining— landed halfway inside the new creature’s cage.
@chainsxwsmile
-♔-
When the creature looked back at her, she nearly dropped her gaze. She didn’t want to lock eyes with any more of the crude, aggressive beasts in this place. But she noticed at once something different about him— his eyes held not a vicious malevolence or blank cold stare. They were softer. More thoughtful. Sorrowful. And something else... was it pity? She couldn’t blame the creature for feeling sorrow. But everything else confused her. Was he not a creature of Morgoth?
She watched him tensely when he moved. His size was intimidating. She had been used to dwarfing most creatures in this age. It struck her immediately how much more massive he was. This form felt so fragile.
She was snapped out of her thoughts with his sudden movement, and his half-eaten snack jamming out through the bars of her cage. She blinked in surprise and looked between it and the olog, chin pressed into her S-bent neck.
She stared blankly for a moment. Then she looked out of her cage, not sure what would happen if she did what she was thinking of doing.
She decided she didn’t care.
The valkyren hooked a wing claw into the muzzle around her snout, and yanked sharply downward. With surprising speed and a loud clang, it snapped off her face and hit the cage floor.
She stood with mouth slightly agape, moving her jaw about and taking a few satisfied breaths. The nasty thing must’ve rubbed through her feathers something fierce.
She then pulled the snack deeper into her cage delicately with her talons, a curious gaze fixed on the olog.
“...Hello?” She muttered, her throat feeling dry.
Oh right. Speak up, they can’t hear you. She was smaller now, her voice wouldn’t reverberate as far as it usually did. She needn’t talk so softly.
She cleared her throat.
“H— Hello?”
She tried her best to sound louder. She tilted her head around, trying to see his face.
“....Why did you let me have this?”
