There was not any of the warmth that had been in Wavechaser’s memories present in this dice’s. Everything was cold, dark, crowded, and uncomfortable. Lexx could feel the mesh wire floor which caught at the confused and frightened dice’s toes. He was shoved around. Paws were caught and twisted, wings snagged and broken. There were so many kits of the dice’s base species.
Lexx watched as the young animals were tossed about without care. They were thinning their numbers and the weak were trampled, whining pitifully under the mass of bodies in the darkness. Whatever this place was, it was a similar hell to the one Lexx had grown up in and he felt sympathy for the animals as they were forced to fight each other to further filter the stronger dice from the weaker.
They were prodded with painful shock rods if they did not fight and this dice, which was mocked repeatedly with taunting calls of what must have been his name. Crash. He was off balance in battle. He only had one wing to fight with while his opponents had two. He spent more time careening into walls than making contact with his opponents and was eventually culled into a group of otherwise strong animals that were flawed.
The conversation going on overhead sorted them into pets, pit bait, and black market experimental. Crash had ended up in a pet box, to be someone’s starter dice.
“I’ve never had a good master.” Crash stated mournfully.