Chapter 47

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The hour was late.

Several of the males had already been by to 'check up' on their prisoners, assuming any of those still survived in the conditions lent to them. Thanks to a combination of the brittle cold, a lack of food, and the absence of hope for some, the Shifters who huddled in small groups within what was once a large tool shed were now suffering greatly.

Each time a male walked in, an even greater hush would fall than the one already present. Often he would sneer at this. Sometimes he would make no comment, simply sniffing at the air for a minute before ducking back out. Not all of them were immediately violent.

More often, however, the male would take it upon himself to make light of the captives' conditions: he would strut about and mock them, pulling on