The old world had been good, but not perfect.
What would this new one hold? She’d never been told exactly what this place would be like, and all the souls held in the bow of this ship were similarly confused – if they even spoke the same language.
Which, much to the sailors’ consternation, most of them didn’t.
She couldn’t understand the sailors’ tongues, but she did understand their sticks, whips, and clubs. She understood angry glares, uncaring tones, and raised hackles. She understood the chains around her wrists and ankles.
And she could guess their destination wouldn’t be fun.
This was written for the August 22 Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge, old world.