The courtroom was overly crowded, overwhelmingly hot, and there were too many eyes on her. She didn’t know why she was here, what these… ‘people’ she thinks they’re called, planned on doing with her, or what was going on. All she knew was her family—no, not family; her pack—had died protecting her, and she was the only survivor.

            “Well, young lady? What do you have to say to the families of those you murdered?” the weirdly dressed person in front of her asked from his ‘seat’ high up.

            She shook her head. She had no idea what those sounds the people around her were making, or what they meant; not anymore. At one point in time, she was able to converse easily, knew just what to say and how to say it, but that changed dozens of moons ago.

            She had come to understand her pack easily enough, and had been the sole ‘guardian’ for many of them, providing food for those around her, and only taking what was necessary for survival, leaving the rest for the others.

            The things weighing down her wrists, and limiting her movements made anything more than a slow walk difficult, and the sound they made was extremely annoying to her ears. The heat and the smell of so many bodies packed tight into this little space did little to help her growing anxiety.

            “Well?” the woman asked again.