Sierra
We trudged along, listening to the guards talk among themselves, too afraid to do so ourselves. Two of the guards on my left were talking about what the kitchen would be serving for dinner tonight. A guard on the right was poorly humming a tune I didn't recognize, and the Beta and another guard were talking about their weekend plans. Apparently, the Beta and his mate were planning on going away for the weekend. It sounded nice. I wish I could live a life like that.
Henry, the evil looking guard, didn't speak to anyone. It seemed as though he was just as hated by his colleagues as he was by us. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. His face seemed to be stuck in a contorted, angry looking face. I guess what they say is true. If you keep making that face, it'll get stuck that way.
