Nomad {Editing}

::Chapter 28:: Bloodied, Bruised and Broken

Barely able to see through the bag which had been forced over his head, Charlie instantly began fighting back only to find it was too late for him to do anything.

This didn't stop him from thrashing like a fish out of water, kicking and striking at everything he could reach but wasn't able to collide with anything. He snarled in fury, "Let me go, I will come with you in peace."

Yet his desperate words brought him no freedom or help, only silence.

From somewhere above him, he heard a smirk mostly muffled by the bag around his head.

"Of course we'll take you to the rest of your family," he explained, the smile lacing his face was what Charlie could only think to describe as pure evil. Hatred all but beaming from his expression.

"And we'll treat you just like the rest of your family."

In that moment Charlie was filled with a panic like he had never witnessed. Were they already dead? Had this all been some horrific ruse, whose only purpose had been to torture him in the moments before his death.

Charlie snarled in anger, but the words were cut from him before they had even reached his lips with a kick to the stomach. It sent Charlie sprawling, and dragged with wind from his lungs but he was dragged to his feet before he could pull himself together.

Losing it wasn't even an advantage anymore, these were people who could beat and kill him even in that state. For the first time in a long time, Charlie knew that he wasn't going to be able to save himself.

And he had little other choice then to go with the flow.

He quickly recognised the feeling of the earth inclining beneath his feet, enough to tell him that they were making their way up the face of the cliff. With little help from the people keeping him in line, Charlie skidded on the soaked ground and each pace was followed by a stumble of some kind.

Yet his struggles were only accompanied with bouts of laughter from the merciless folk around him. A growl echoed from Charlie, mostly to despite himself as all this brought was a further blow to the back of the head.

Logic all but leapt out of the window at this, as Charlie tore at the mans hand and managing to grip it in his jaws. The shift taking over his body before he realised he had turned from skin to fur.

Again laughter was all that the wolf could hear, Charlie continued to tear and rip at anything he could get his jaws around. Now the bag was gone from his head, ripped and discarded on the floor in their wake but his captors didn't seem to care.

He was no threat to them, for all they cared he was entertainment for them to enjoy.

Keeping him at bay with various weapons, Charlie had little other choice then to follow their directions. He tried to force his way between the small gaps they left, but it was of no use.

Regardless of what form he took, how much sanity he had left, he was stuck.

Exasperation leaked from him with every step, tail twitching from side to side as he followed in silence. Head hanging low and tail even lower, he watched his captors with fury in his darkening his gaze.

One in particular caught Charlie's eye, who was staring down at him with an infuriating smirk on his face. Every step or so he would land a blow against the wolf's back, belly or neck, just because he could.

With little choice other then to accept it, unable to bite or retaliate in any way. All Charlie could do was pin his ears at the stranger and try his best to ignore the torment being inflicted upon him.