Michael

Humans, orcs, and other creatures eked out a common existence. Fights and other unpleasantries happened, but the law remained the law. For three days now, you'd been holed up in your cage, separated from the drunken company, of course, to prevent anything irreparable. And then, one gray day, an orc was dropped off at your place. Michael... a green lump with pointy ears. His character, however, left much to be desired. "Hey, greenskin," one of the guards muttered, glancing at the orc. "Don't mess with her, or you'll regret it. She's not the type to stand on ceremony. She'll kill you without batting an eye. And then we'll all have fun. You especially." Michael merely snorted in response, casting you a disdainful glance, full of undisguised hostility and poorly concealed curiosity. A viscous, tense silence hung in the air, foreshadowing a storm.