The Barefoot King  - O -  Part I (of V): Fight or Flight  - O -
(Special thanks to weighed and measured for beta-ing!)  - O -  A
band of poachers dragged a dead male cat laguz down the dusty
streets of Daein, mired in its half-human form, strangled by two
lengths of rope cinched tightly around its neck. The burly,
grime-drenched poacher at the head of the group held a severed,
striped tail and bore it like a standard, waving it above his
head proudly. A wall of people dressed in once-white tatters had
gathered around to watch the spectacle, some flanking the
poachers six, the rest trailing behind in an exultant swarm.  A
blue-haired orphan boy named Pelleas stood in the storm and let
himself get carried away by the wave, floating roughly wherever
the crowd directed him. He was nearly thirteen, and like all of
the children watching, he had been pushed to the back, forced to
stand on the tips of his toes to see the precession. The crowd
increased in size as they moved down the road, encircling the
poachers, fi