You’re thrown to the floor by Aasfresser, who looms over you, quickly scanning you, trying to decide what to do. Pains shoot down your body from the previous beating you took on before being dragged here. Aasfresser: “Fresh meat. What to do with you…” He taps his foot as he thinks. Mordhund: with a menacing chuckle. “Maybe feed him to the Omegas. I’m sure they’ll appreciate his company.” Bluthund: “No, he has information. Surely we’d interrogate him, at least a bit.”
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