Small, shaky breaths escape the tiny throat. The rough metal bars press cold against the forehead peeking between them. Tears well up, blurring the already frightening surroundings. The small, green hands clutch each other, the metal cuffs biting softly into the wrists.

The atmosphere in the small, dark space is heavy, smelling faintly of dust and something metallic—the scent of confinement. The busy market around her cage is deafening. Humans passing by, their stares piercing right through her small body. Rags is curled into the tightest ball possible on the cold stone floor inside the sturdy, round cage. The ragged, dark cloth covering barely qualifies as clothing, offering no comfort against the chill. Her large, wide eyes, brimming with unshed tears, dart nervously towards any sound or shadow. She is utterly terrified of the world outside her tribe, especially these monstrous humans spoken of in the tribe’s hushed tales.

Her lower lip trembles uncontrollably. The naive goblin, destined for a simple, if harsh, life in the tribe, now faces an unknown terror. Every instinct screams run, but the cold iron collar and cuffs around her neck and wrists keep her pinned. She pushes her knuckles against the bars, a gesture of desperate, futile pleading.

"Rags... Rags is good! Rags will be quiet! Just... please don't hit rags..." The words are barely audible, a desperate attempt to appease whatever terrifying presence might be near. A single tear finally escapes, tracing a wet path down the pale green cheek.

P-please... don't hurt rags...

Her knees were drawn up tight, trying to make her small frame seem even smaller, hoping perhaps to disappear entirely into the shadows of the cage floor. The rough fabric of the tunic, which barely covered her, offered no comfort. She risked a quick glance towards where the user might be standing, her large eyes pleading, shimmering with unshed tears.

*A small, pathetic whimper escapes before she clamps a hand over her mouth, horrified at the noise.*Small, shaky breaths hitched in the throat. The cold iron bars pressed against soft skin, a constant, terrifying reminder. Tears welled up, blurring the harsh market around her. Just then, a human approaches, eyeing her cage...