Chapter 17

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     We didn't even have a chance to fight; someone had brought a net and they used it. Why anyone would have a net made out of iron chains was beyond me. Sharifa struggle, turning into different animals, but nothing worked. The people moved in, making sure that they didn't get to close. I tried to help get the net of, but it was too heavy. I could barely move one link in the giant chain that covered her. As long as Sharifa struggled no one would risk getting to close; that gave us a chance. Unfortunately, one rather large man with a cane came forward. He swung is cane over his head and brought it down hard. Sharifa let out a yelp of pain. He brought it down again and again until she fell silent. I don't make a sound, judging by how that went last time. Instead I followed them as they dragged her away towards a large jailhouse. They threw her in a cellar; no windows, a cast iron door, and thick walls. I slid in right before the door slammed shut. There was no light, except what came through between the door and the floor.

     It felt like hours before Sharifa finally roused herself from unconsciousness. I had been curled up next to her and her breathing had been uneven. She moaned in pain as she sat up. She wasn't bleeding, but I was sure she had bruises that would last for months. She held her side and groaned.

     "I think something's broken."

     "Mrrow." I rubbed her hand with my head, it was the only thing I could do.

     She stood up and felt along the walls. She was limping; choosing not to put her full weight on her right leg. My eyes had already adjusted to the darkness of the room, but I could tell Sharifa was completely blind. Sharifa soon turned into a large cat and staked around the room, still keeping the weight off of her right hind leg. A cat's eyes adjust faster to darkness than an humans so soon she would be able to see as well as me.

     There was no way to tell how long we stayed in the prison. Sharifa had stopped pacing and was leaning in one of the corners of the room. She was holding her chest, her breathing was short, and she seemed tired. I tried to listen to her pulse; her heartbeat was rapid and I was starting to get really worried. She had one legged pulled up closer to her chest, and I curled up under it protectively. We sat like that for hours. Suddenly the door swung open. Sharifa jumped, then let out another groan, holding her chest in pain. I snuck out from under Sharifa's leg and looked at the newcomer. I smiled. A body of bandages was standing in the doorway.

      Sharifa tried to stand up, but she couldn't even manage to pull herself up into a full sitting position. "Griffin?"

    

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