Once again, this is from the story I haven't published on Protag yet! Bear with me, guys!
The dark horse walks slowly out of her hiding place in the shadows. She is made of the very materials of hurt and fear and evil, rather than flesh and bones. She's a Non-being.
"Lehergo!" I say, calling her over to me.
"Who are you?" she says quietly. But she obeys my command-- that's all she knows how to do, poor beast. Obey and destroy life and fear humans.
"Let's just say I know everything, all right? I would rather not go into the details."
"Lehergo..." my voice cracks. I feel so sorry for her.
"What would you like to say?" she asks.
"I'm sorry for your life."
Her expression is blank, "I do not understand."
"I'm sorry that you live in a world of darkness, without love and without a chance at life. It was a terrible thing to do."
"What are you saying?" He voice is flat. She does not know how to express her inner feelings... she is too hurt for that.
"It's my fault you have no emotions. It's my fault you are abused and broken. It's my fault that you and Ruther live empty lives. It's my fault you are mindless slaves. And you two were so beautiful in the begining..."
She says nothing.
Then, her master comes out of the woods. He is made of the same material as her. He looks at Lehergo and yells at her to come. She obeys, and when she reaches him he smacks her across the face with a riding crop.
Lehergo does nothing to defend herself, because that's how I made her. And I wish I didn't.
Her master gets in the saddle and kicks her sides. They gallops off to meet up with Ruther and his rider, somewhere to the west.
There's enough time to see the brand on the side of her neck, 59910401.