[Brinniel]

"All slaves stand!"

The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. It took a few seconds for Desolyn to comprehend those words, for her mind was somewhere else. It was a rough day in the fields for the girl and the pain that shot through her back was all she could really focus on.

Meialath noticed Desolyn's hesitation, and after giving the girl a slight tug, Des finally stood up slowly.

"In number order!"

Like every other year, Desolyn hoped the overseer would not say this. But as always, the words came as expected. Desolyn hated walking with the other slaves; it was the time she felt least human, if she ever felt human at all.

Still, Desolyn did not argue and she rushed to find her place in line. She was number 19769, only seventeen away from Meialath, who stood with her head high, obedient as ever. Des glanced back at the girl she had spoken with earlier; she was new to the hut and Desolyn was curious about her. She had spotted the girl for a second, whose head was hung low, then she disappeared in the crowd of other slaves and Desolyn could not find her again.

The walk was a grueling one for Desolyn. It was not so much the pain from her raw back and sore feet that bothered Desolyn. It was the feeling of shame that hung over her like a cloud that was so disturbing. More than anything, the girl wanted run, but she knew that would be foolish. The easterlings would kill her on the spot if she did. If Desolyn had any chance of escaping, it would be in the Hunt. The Hunt. She looked ahead towards the Great Hall, where the choosing of the Hunt would take place. All around her, Desolyn could see slaves muttering to themselves, hoping they would not be chosen. In her own mind, she began to pray the opposite.