[As if Kratos has any say in it whatsoever; as if he isn't, currently, existing on the sufferance of Sylvarant. Why is Yuan treating him like this? Like he has a right to determine his future? Kratos has heard that half-elves in Sylvarant are treated even worse than in Tethe'alla, but he'd found that difficult to imagine once he knew how they were treated by his own country; he'd wanted to believe those rumours were only rumours.
[Now he's wondering whether Yuan has some experience with slavery already, and not necessarily on the master's end.
[The thought derails before it can reach the potential of asking, thanks to the food. Kratos's attention fixes on that the moment he hears it slop into the bowl. The last few weeks have been one long chain of misery; until the breath of fresh air and sun, the lack of chains, he hasn't realised how badly he's been needing something more substantial than a prisoner's fare. They weren't exactly starved -- but that doesn't mean much.
[He clasps his hands together under the table, fingers trembling, and breathes through the urge to snatch up the bowl Yuan puts before him. It's probably still hot, for one. For another, he'd rather not choke now that he's out of that horrible place.
[It takes a few moments, but it's only after Kratos feels as though he's mastered himself that he reaches out to pick up the spoon and eat. Even then, after that first glorious mouthful, he can't stop himself from eating faster than he intends.]
no subject
[As if Kratos has any say in it whatsoever; as if he isn't, currently, existing on the sufferance of Sylvarant. Why is Yuan treating him like this? Like he has a right to determine his future? Kratos has heard that half-elves in Sylvarant are treated even worse than in Tethe'alla, but he'd found that difficult to imagine once he knew how they were treated by his own country; he'd wanted to believe those rumours were only rumours.
[Now he's wondering whether Yuan has some experience with slavery already, and not necessarily on the master's end.
[The thought derails before it can reach the potential of asking, thanks to the food. Kratos's attention fixes on that the moment he hears it slop into the bowl. The last few weeks have been one long chain of misery; until the breath of fresh air and sun, the lack of chains, he hasn't realised how badly he's been needing something more substantial than a prisoner's fare. They weren't exactly starved -- but that doesn't mean much.
[He clasps his hands together under the table, fingers trembling, and breathes through the urge to snatch up the bowl Yuan puts before him. It's probably still hot, for one. For another, he'd rather not choke now that he's out of that horrible place.
[It takes a few moments, but it's only after Kratos feels as though he's mastered himself that he reaches out to pick up the spoon and eat. Even then, after that first glorious mouthful, he can't stop himself from eating faster than he intends.]