A Slaves Voyage

"Wake up you filthy mongrel", the words were accompanied by a swift kick. The scream and the kick caused Ark to jerk awake from from his slumber and reflexively curl into a ball and cover his head. Peering through the gap of his legs he saw a skinny man with dirt crusted blonde hair standing outside his cage glaring at him with disgust. The man tossed into the cage half of a loaf of bread and a dish of water before leaving after one more kick to Ark's shins. Although still reeling from the two kicks Ark swiftly snatched and devoured the bread and greedily gulped down the water. Limping from the kick to his shins he moved to the corner of his cage, where he had made a makeshift bed out of some straw and a ripped shirt, and laid down. He remembered the first week of this torment, he had cried himself to sleep every night, but with time the pain grew dull. The ache of hunger in his stomach, the dry rasp in his throat, and the bruises and scars covering his malnourished body became normal. Remembering his torment he felt a swell of anger overwhelm him, it filled is bones his muscles and tendons, smothering his sense of reason. Letting out a roar filled with the anger and despair that the past two months at sea had caused him his leg shot out striking one of the iron bars of his cage as hard as he could. Screaming even more at the pain caused by the ill advised meeting of flesh and metal he cursed himself for doing something so useless and stupid. If he truly wanted to get out of his circumstances he would have to act with patience and intelligence, not anger. Laying back down in his tattered excuse for a bed he returned to his slumber, failing to notice that the two inch thick iron bar that he had struck in his rage had bowed outward slightly from a force much more powerful than a 9 year old boy should possess.