Holding Pens: Alice
The very worst part about being stuck in a pen, even a nice big one with other people, was not having anywhere to go or anything to do. Alice stepped to the front, resting her hand delicately against the bars of the cage as she watched people come and go. Some that passed were Masters. Others were newly acquired property. Some were happy, others were sad... More of them were scared than they'd probably ever like to admit. They were all going home, but some of them might not last the winter.
It was sad in a way. Alice watched them pass for several minutes, her large, blue eyes wide. After a time, she knelt to the ground, running her fingers along it as though painting an invisible picture.
They told her they weren't certain if she would fetch a fine price or a have to be haggled down to something cheap. She had a particular look, they said, and she wasn't much good at being the sort of slave a man or woman would want. They always tried to teach, and it never stuck for reasons that the girl didn't care to entertain. Her voice, however, could maybe fetch her a decent price.
As Alice knelt on the floor, she noticed that she'd begun to sing a tune softly to herself. Some younger children in the pen, older ones as well, had quieted from crying.