Charlie was a young goat demihuman, his twisty horns catching the dim light of the marketplace as he sat on display in a cramped wooden cage. The air was thick with the sounds of bartering and the occasional whip crack, but Charlie barely flinched anymore. He’d learned that showing fear only made the humans mock him more. His floppy ears twitched at the buzz of voices around him, discussing his price, his strength, and how “stubborn” his kind could be.

His hooves scraped against the wooden floor of the cage as he adjusted his position, trying to shake off the ache in his legs. The memory of his home—the cliffs, the wind, the freedom—felt so distant it almost seemed like a dream. Here, in the heart of the human marketplace, he was nothing more than an oddity, a “rare specimen” for sale.

“Fifty gold,” one buyer barked, and Charlie’s ears perked up slightly. Another voice countered, raising the bid, but Charlie didn’t care who it was. One human was the same as the next. His gaze dropped to the ground, his usual spark of defiance dulled by exhaustion.