So cold, very cold.

Her eyes were glued to the passing blur around her, her tiny gaunt fingers lightly gripping the bars of one of the many transportable cages containing shackled women in the train that she lay in. The bars were made of solid iron and a roof and floor made of unbreakable steel, a cage all for herself. She often wondered how the warmth felt like. It was always often so cold, and she wanted nothing more than to bundle herself up in a tight blanket. When was the last time she had one of those?

She shut her eyes, silencing her thoughts.

She couldn’t even remember.

For most years of her life, all she's ever known is the blur of trees, the scent of the forest, the bars that held her in, and the scraps of cloth that barely covered her body. She had nowhere to run to, she had nothing to keep her warm but a thin sheet of cloth, and she was unbearably hungry. The last time she had tasted anything was days ago, and it was nothing more than a stale lump of bread paired with a mere handful of rainwater.

But she was used to it.

She had to get used to it, to the point that the aches almost felt numb.

What else could she do when they, the werewolves, were stronger than her, faster than her, and would not hesitate to hurt her if she dared to escape? And even if she could escape, which would be a near-impossible feat, she didn't know how the outside world worked and would probably die in a matter of hours. The forest was unforgiving… and so very cold.

The sun began to set, casting an orange-hued glow upon the greenery that lay beyond her eyesight. Unconsciously, she found herself staring off into the distance, wondering how the world beyond the trees looked like. Would it be anything like the forest, with its lush trees and beautiful flowers? Or would it be even more beautiful? Would there be more like her? Other humans who would be able to smile, not living in fear of those that surrounded them?

She had heard once of the structures in the world beyond from a werewolf who had gone to scout out the grounds and stumbled upon what he had called a 'city'. She remembered how the other werewolves weren't pleased, and she realized that they liked it much more in the forest. She also recalled how the werewolf had described the 'buildings', as he had called it, which reached far into the sky as the lights flashed and blurred to become a flurry of activity. Her heart fluttered at that.

Oh, how she wished to see those flashing lights and those buildings that reached the heavens. She'd give anything to see it.

She might have seen it before, back before her time in captivity but her memory evades her. Her memories of who she was, where she came from, who had loved her all faded into the unseen recesses of her mind. Will she never truly find herself?

Her big honey eyes filled with tears, reality crashing upon her yet again. She was bound to be caged ‘til the day a brute of a man would find interest in her and she would be whisked away. And even then, she knew he wouldn't love her. He wouldn't even like her, for she will just be used, just as her captors had reminded her over and over again.

She will never be loved.

She will never be able to explore the world.

"Oh, baby Robin!" One of the werewolves, a man named Ron, trotted up beside her cage, calling her with a name that all of them had jokingly given her because of how similar she was to that of a trapped bird, caged with its now useless wings. It happened one day, a Robin had come to take shelter in her cage, even staying for a few days after that. She had treated it like a friend, but they had ruined it all when they stole the poor Robin away and drowned it in a barrel of water. Oh, how she cried that day for them to stop but it had only convinced them to continue on, the poor bird drowning in mere seconds. And from then on, she had been called Robin.

She was just like that poor little Robin…

But instead of being drowned, she was trapped.

Caged...

Alone...

She had grown to hate the name, it reminded her of how much these monsters wanted her to suffer so badly... but it was the only name she knew. They never told her nor the girls their true names, calling her #75 when they were serious and Robin when they just wanted to tease her. She hated it.

She hated them.

But she feared them more.

Sensing her fear at the sound of his voice, the tall, bulky man smirked at her in amusement. "We'll be arriving at another pack by next morning. A bowl of water will be given to you tonight. Wash yourself up, and try to make yourself as presentable as you could, but I doubt that'd be much." The last part stung, but she simply dropped her head to hide whatever her face would reveal. She knew she was ugly. He didn't have to remind her, yet again.

Ignoring her silent reaction, he continued with a bigger smirk tainting his chapped lips. "And a dress will be given as well. Make sure you don't dirty it because I doubt anyone would buy you and we'd need it for the next auctioning. Don’t forget the rules. No talking, no eye contact, so keep your eyes to the floor." He ended gravely, forcing her to nod timidly at his instructions. Honestly, she knew them by heart and they knew that as well, but they treated her like she was stupid anyway.

She was starting to think that maybe she really was.

She was in this situation in the first place.

Ron advanced, intending to move on to the next cage that held a girl no older than 14. She arrived just a few weeks back. She was fully human like Robin which was less common, with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes, and she put up a fight in the first week she was here.

That was her mistake.

She could remember the horrible feeling as she watched them beat the young girl into a bloodied pulp, reminding not only the girl, but the rest of the women that they had every reason to fear the Claws.

You resist, you get punished.

It was what they all understood.

And just like any “loving relationship”, they patched her up right after her beating and even gave her proper food and clothes for a week after. Then, they would strip everything away for at least 2 weeks. She suspected that the young girl was still in the post-punishment period. They always did so after every punishment with the girls. During her first few years, she could remember her own personal moments as well. It was meant to, as they said, keep the goods presentable.

She sighed, shaking the memories away, and moving to the back of her cage when Ron backtracked, tilting his head towards her direction. His silver eyes flashed with something malicious and deadly, as if he kept an inside joke more sinister than comedic.

"Get some rest," he grabbed one of the bars that helped lock her in and gave a sinister smile. She could only look on as he sauntered off, merging with the rest of the captors where they huddled at the edge of the clearing where they had decided to stop for a moment. It seemed they were discussing the events for tomorrow, like they always did.

Her captors were of no more than 5 men, but they proved much deadlier than their numbers seemed. They were strong men, and had a cunning to them that could not be denied. They were no geniuses, but Robin would consider them as far from dolts. Over the years, she had come to understand that these wolves were quite different than others, rogues as she had heard others say. Robin didn’t much understand what that meant, but she understood enough to know that these men had been banished from their respective packs for one reason or another, and none of them good.

And by the hand of fate, they found each other and created this little group of theirs, the one they called the Claws, running this sleazy business of capturing women and selling them off to packs. Their memories wiped off their minds so as to keep it more simple for the girls to be kept under their wings. She noticed in their little scheme as well that there was a set system with each and every wolf having roles.

There was Ron, the one she considered the most annoying. While he was the smallest, he was definitely the one with the loudest mouth. He was the one who stayed behind and “took care” of the women. Then there were the twins, Kira and Kage, more or less the muscles who took the women in the first place. They were silent men, ones who looked worn with past battles more than anything. In all her years, she had rarely heard them speak but they did their job well enough. The one and only leader was Bruce, though Robin genuinely considered him as more of the coward. It seemed he was just placed in the position because no one else wanted to step up to the plate and because he looked the least…. threatening… out of all of them. He was also the stickler for rules, and gave strict instructions for everything.

The most valuable member would have to be Jan. He was the mediator and he knew how to talk extremely well. His irreplaceable connections to different packs are what had brought them this far in the first place, and the bastard knew it. The leader turned a blind eye to most of his misdemeanors without so much as a blink, letting him do as he pleased, whether he would touch the women or do much worse. It was him that she feared the most, him that she knew the most…. And it sickened her to admit it.

As she peered at them through the bars, she could only feel the sense of burning hatred. They had destroyed her life and any chance she could make it out again. But even more so, she felt the hollow fear, like a learned habit ingrained into her soul.

This was all she knew, the sick little family where they were the pets.

But then, maybe she did deserve this.

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