'Vita needs a slave to pick his teeth.' Corinth opens his mouth, revealing two rows of razor harp teeth.
Mouth duty. One of the worst obligations ever. I hang my head. What did I do to get on Corinth's bad side? But at least once I finish, I might be able to sneak away for a spell. That alone makes the terrible chore worthwhile.
As you desire, it shall be done.
Again, I press my forehead to the ground. I hate this position. All of us humans do, but we have no choice. We have no power here or anywhere else for that matter. We are weak. We are prey. We are slaves.
Or we are dead.