Shaka was unceremoniously hurled back into her cell. She had gotten used to the rough treatment over her months of captivity but regardless the final forceful shove always managed to find its way under her skin.
"Get yerself sum rest, ya scaly slut," growled the portly human guard to the kobold as he slammed the cell door shut. "You'll need it fer tomorrow's session wit the barracks. And remember, not a single peep outta ya til then."
He locked the door and turned back down the hall, a slack in his step and a smirk on his face.
Shaka scowled and pulled herself back up, brushing the dirt off of her raggedy outfit. Normally when a kobold was this frustrated they'd simply fight it out with their family until everyone was either happy or unconscious, but down here she had nobody to lash out against - nobody to thrash when things got difficult. Who would she take her hatred out on down here? Here in the deepest level of Lord Whitemane's dungeon a lowly creature like her was at the absolute bottom of the pecking order.
Even worse, the humans who kept her here demanded her complete silence during bedtime when she'd rather be smashing things in anger.
Shaka felt despair creeping in once again as she considered her powerlessness. She curled up into a ball, clutched her head in both hands, and focused on not exploding else she attract the ire of her captors again.
...?
In the corner of her eye, the kobold spotted a strange sight - A pixie squeezing in through a gap in the stones!
It must've escaped from the humans. Judging by the filth, the poor thing had likely been sneaking through the walls for days in its search for the exit.
The pixie limped toward Shaka with a sorrowful expression (or was it pity? Shaka had a hard time with humanoid faces) and allowed itself to be picked up by the unfamiliar kobold.
What did it gain from this? The kobold didn't care enough to ponder. All she knew was that now she had a means of venting out her frustration in silence.
She