Days and night, days and nights. The slow, begrudging passing of time. The air seemed stale and stagnant and dry and all things terrible. The dim light that came in from outside glowed and then darkened.

One evening, the wolf sighed, staring at the ceiling and laying on his back. As far away as the rope would allow, the saluki laid down, head on her paws and a sigh in her throat, eyes open and closing, open and closing, as if she couldn't decide whether or not to sleep. The rope tugged at her throat uncomfortably.

"Did The Baron give you a reason for my capture?" The wolf asked, his loneliness and the silence allowing his thoughts to wonder.

Laika sighed, bothered by his voice, "No."

"You just follow any orders he gives you?"

"Yes. He's The Baron. We have to."

"And if you were to disobey?"

"I'd be punished then, I suppose. But it won't matter. I won't disobey."

The wolf rolled onto his side and lifted his head, looking at Laika with a sparked curiousity, "I think that is yet another difference between us. I don't blindly obey."

Not moving from where she lay, she bared her teeth, "I don't, either. We are not pets."

"Seems a little like The Baron is your owner. He literally has you on a leash."

She growled further, "You don't know anything."

The wolf just looked at her with large, curious eyes, "I don't. I've never been in a tribe before. I've always had to run from them."

"You should have kept running. I wish you'd never come here," Laika hissed, laying her head back to the floor and rolling away from his stare. The wolf still peered at her backside, still curious. She was the only presence he had known for several days now. Although mostly it was just silence, they did talk quite often from their intense boredom and frustration, usually in small spats or disagreements. They both seemed to huff gently with it, a pent-up energy and anger and frustration as the days lingered and the sun outside set.

Laying on the floor and gnawing hopelessly on the rope, the wolf asked, "What does your tribe tell you about the wolves? I only heard what you told The Baron and what my pack told me when I was younger."

Laika sighed, tired of his occasional conversation, "They told us how it is; that you are huge, unruly beasts, capable of strong destruction without the use of tools. You are a primitive beast."

"You think we are primitive because we don't use tools?" He flicked an ear, cocking his head.

She sat up, a little proud now, "So it is true! You don't use any tools?"

"We dig for our homes. We don't use hides to build tents. We don't use stones, or twines, or leathers to create armours or weapons. We have our teeth and each other. That is our way. But we are just as educated. Our cultures are just different."

"Right," Laika was unconvinced, and held a brow raised.

The silence stretched and ached, as did the boredom.

The wolf spoke first, once again, "Do you miss being outside?"

"Of course I do."

"No, I don't mean outside of the cave. I mean outside of the tribe." The wolf sat up, looking at Laika who laid sprawled on the cool floor. He spoke with gentleness, "Whenever you got to run outside to catch me, did it exhilarate you? Is it fun to go outside, into the woods and prairies and out of the town?"

Laika stared at the wolf with half-shut eyes, processing what she thought was a very stupid question, and then said slowly, "Not particularly. My home is right here with these other dogs."

"You're social, then?"

"Also not particularly."

The wolf stared, narrowing his eyes, the cogs grinding away inside of his head as he tried to put her puzzle together. Then, he took a breath, "You know, I think that you like going outside of the town."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Otherwise you'd have a job in town. You wouldn't work as a hunter like you do, where you go outside of the town all of the time."

The wolf noticed her ears prick just a little, her eyes widen just a little. With a look of boredom, she rolled over and flopped back onto the floor, and again, the wolf was plunged into silence. Laika wondered if he talked so much because it had been so long since he had been around others- at least, others that weren't trying to kill him. And for a split second, she felt almost sad for him for that fact.

She did, then, wonder how long he had been away from his pack, and so she asked, "How long have you been living in our woods?"

A distant gaze, and "...Just a few months. But I have been local to the area for years. I try to keep moving." Laika only stared, wondering what it was like to be alone for all that time. And for another moment, she even respected his restraint.

The days seemed to pass with an all-time slowness. In the cave, there was no sun nor stars to keep track of the time, which expanded relentlessly. Only a bit of dull light from the entrance to the room shone in. The two canines kept silent for a long time, but the silence bit at them both harshly, although in different ways. Laika was liked by everyone; she was lively and talkative, and not used to silence. The wolf, on the other hand, having lived alone for so long was used to silence; but he was not used to being confined, and longed for his freedom. It itched at his paws, tugged on his coat, and soon enough he was using claws to scrape sadly at the wall of the browned stone cave, a small whine escaping his throat.

"There's no way to get out," Laika said gruffly, like she was scolding him for even considering trying.

"I'm sorry if it's not what you want, but I can't sit here for days and do nothing," He said, just as gruffly.

"Why not? It's not like you were doing anything out there."

"I'm not doing anything in here, either." The wolf said, a bit low, "I need my freedom. Unlike you domestics, I don't belong on a leash or in a cage."

Laika stood up, seeming taken aback, "Excuse me? Being alone all that time has made your manners poor."

"Oh yeah? Why do I have to be kind to you? You're one of the ones that hunted us down and put me in this mess." Despite the anger and frustration lingering in his voice, he never rose his voice, nor his body; he remained hunched on the floor beneath Laika's gaze, giving her the power. His frustration of being captive showed, but he remained respectful. Laika noticed it, but it appeared only as a passing thought at the back of her mind. To her, all wolves were still dominant and evil creatures. She was floored at her Baron's command to mate with a beast, although to some extent, it did make sense to her in some crooked way. Laika understood The Baron's hunger for power, but she did not understand his disregard for her wellbeing and foolish trust of a feral animal. Then again, The Baron was just another selfish leader. She wondered if anyone truly righteous could ever make it to the top like that. Surely they couldn't, as you had to truly be selfish in order to fight for power like that.

As for Laika? Working through sweat and blood, she had proudly earned her trusted position in the tribe. Even as a pup, she would play ferociously and race the other pups. She would win every time.

As she sat there, glaring at the Wolf bound to her, she wondered with distaste how he had ended up here himself. If to be in her position was truly an honour as The Baron had said, then how come this low-life Wolf was also in her position? Was he, too, deserving of honour? The thought disgusted her, repulsed her, and she wrinkled her nose at him like she'd smelt a bad smell. That's all he seemed to be.

After some time, Laika responded with a sour tongue, "We were just following orders. You were a feral in our territory."

The wolf wanted to be angry, but he knew he had hardly any right to be. Mostly, he was just frustrated, "I know. I'm sorry."

Laika looked up at him with brown eyes, a little confused. Those were words she had never heard before- not spoken directly to her, anyways.

A little fiery, she asked, "How would we even escape, if we did? We are bound to that rock and to this sad room. And even so, if we stay here, you'd have a real chance in our Tribe. Don't you want that?"

"I'm not a dog," the wolf said, matter-of-factly, "I don't belong in a tribe with dogs."

"And so you belong out there, all alone?"

He sighed, "I don't want to be alone, but what other wolves are still out there and alive?"

"Your family could still be out there," Laika insisted.

"I don't think so..."

Laika stood up, facing him, "You have so little hope. Your family could be out there, struggling, and you don't care to find them? How did you get scattered all the way out here?"

"Honestly, Laika, I don't have much of a family... My parents died when I was too young to know them. It was always just me. When we got attacked, after years of hiding, most of the pack stayed together or split into bigger groups, but I dispersed completely like a stupid lone wolf," He sighed heavily once again, staring at the dusty floor, body full of heavy regret. "There wasn't a reason to stay."

"Come on, Wolf," Laika spoke with bitterness, "Who of us in this world do know our families? We're raised by the tribe to be workers and soldiers and hunters, and not by our parents or siblings."

"I didn't know," the wolf said. "Are all tribes like that? That's what made wolves such a threat, I suppose... because we always stuck together with our families..."

"No," Laika said sternly, "Your loyalty to your families is what made you weak. Your size and strength is what made you a threat."

"That's why the domestics scattered us," the wolf said, amber eyes igniting with just a hint of recognition, "...Because we had to be split apart in order to be slaughtered."

Laika empathised, but only glanced away from him poorly to show it, ears far back on her head then and her shoulders a little hunched. In the darkness of the cave, only a small sheen was visible on her shoulder blades despite their well-defined muscle, and a shallow highlight in her brown eyes.

"You could come with me."

Laika looked from the floor to him, eyes wide, and with hesitation, "What?"

"We could break out of here, and then you could come with me. You probably would be punished if we broke out, anyways, so what's the point in staying? And you're the one who complained that I would be lonely." The wolf spoke in a very down-to-earth manner, speaking everything as fact and with strong self opinions. He yearned for freedom and he wasn't afraid to make that fact known; his feet seemed to shift from side to side, a little antsy, his ears flicking and swivelling around, listening to the distant voices outside and inside the cave. And his mind rolled about in of itself, twirling like ribbons and twine with thoughts, worries, and furies. This place reminded him of hate.

"No," Laika said, loudly and angrily, "I will not go with you. I will never go with a beast! You said so yourself, you could never live with dogs!"

"Fine. But we are tied by this rope! If I escape, then you will be free, too."

She stood, then, black feathered tail up in a blaze, and suddenly her dark coat reminded the wolf of charcoal, "I am free where I stand!"

"Bound to a cave with ropes?"

"No! In a tribe with other domestics where I belong, where my status is grand and earned! I don't belong with a wolf and my future is certainly not to be determined by a wolf."

The wolf grumbled quietly, like a child that had been scolded, and muttered, "You could have thought about that before capturing me."

"You are a lot less submissive than I had originally thought you to be!"

"I'm a wolf, Laika, I am not a dog. I will not crouch for you," which was said by the wolf with irony, as he was, in fact, crouched for her so as to appear less threatening. He didn't want her to be scared, and so far, she didn't seem to be. In fact, she seemed more comfortable now than the previous few mornings, and the wolf only wondered if their heated conversation had finally broken the ice.