Coleus

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It was daylight.
In their cages the remcamen sat in a horse drawn cart covered by a tan sheet. They were eating cooked pork chops and watermelon slices while they traveled. Match sat beside them, outside the cage but still under the sheet. Her axe being held tightly in her hands. 
Looking at her fellow remcamen she noticed that some of them were crying. She assumed it was because of the food. Gamy mice and rats were the only things they had eaten for a long time. This was real, fresh, seasoned meat. It ripped apart easy and tasted so rich and savory. The watermelon was refreshing with the sweetness of it. The constantly starving remcamen might finally feel full after this. 

ErkTrout was in the front steering the horses, softly weeping. Match could vaguely hear his thoughts. The things invaded her mind like a tiny water leak in a submarine. They were so uncertain, so angry. He saw this as a mistake, something he wished he knew a way out of. Smothered over all the rest of his emotions was the grief of losing Max. 

Match could tell the lad was like a son to him. Memories of passing the torch from his generation to Max's fizzled in her head as he broke over remembering them. Match would've been affected by them, but they were more like information than her own emotions. They numly flashed in her mind like a remembered dream. It was confusing, and a little annoying. 

"Could ya lighten up a bit?" She thought at ErkTrout.
ErkTrout wiped his tears away.
"You're in my head creature. Max is also there. Keep him out, I cannot," He said softly.
"Er fine…" Match sighed. As much as she could push him to do things in the real world, she couldn't stop the flow of his thoughts.

Match heard him think that objects couldn't feel grief. 

"That's not true!" Match thought at him. 
"Oh! I, I didn't think… I!..." ErkTrout's ears flattened as he tried to make an excuse.
"It's fine. I get it. You're ignorant and don't wanna learn. What are you? Like, 45 years old?" Match asked. 
"Yeah.. what are you? A hundred?" ErkTrout scoffed.

Match took the sheet off her to look at ErkTrout.
"I'm over a billion years old!" Match thought. She said it like it was a shiny badge of honor.
"...That's a number?" ErkTrout asked. 
"Yeah, it like, looks like this," Match sent a mental image of '1,000,000,000'. 
"I still don't understand what that means. I suppose it's a long time. I guess you objects can't die then?" ErkTrout asked.
"No. We like, die all the time. We just have ways to come back," Match said. She put the sheet back over her. 
"Oh! Does that mean I could!-"
"Our services don't apply to the likes of you," Match thought. 
"Oh.." ErkTrout said, but his thoughts were angry and snappy. 
Match couldn't stand them.

"Oh I don't know, maybe you wereras should try doing something by yourselves for once, instead of taking us from our homes and making us kill people for you! We aren't your slaves! We aren't mindless either, and I think you knew that when punishing me!" Match thought. 

"..erm" ErkTrout said. 
"You took us away from where everyone probably saw us last! It's already so hard to find us. You brought us away! From any hope in being cured! I doubt that wereras could even start to try and cure us when they don't even bother to understand us! You called me a creature of darkness! A devil! without even thinking about who I really am!" Match thought. Her emotions were boiling over. 

She heard him think 'You killed Max and Pharos and Grandon and Poog and Beagle and Mastiff and Georgia and Creagh and Steve and Killog. Witwell and Marcy, Tom and yeah..'

"I did all of those things because of you! You ignored my intelligence, my life, my sanity, all for your own sake!" Match barked in her thoughts.

"You did the very same by killing all of those innocents!" ErkTrout said. Unable to hide his thoughts his words suddenly became sour. 
"You and all your ironclad buddies aren't innocent. They like, pelted me with rocks! They're just like you!" Match thought.
"They were doing what they were told," ErkTrout said. 

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