Ghost Lion Crag don't worry about him, he's getting fired in the morning.

Artaax thought perhaps she might leave now, but it didn't happen. He continued to stare straight ahead as she moved nearer to him and began to poke and prod at him. He wondered vaguely what she was doing, without realizing he had been told already. Whatever it was, he didn't feel at all compelled to protest it. Hell, maybe she would slit his throat and he'd be caught so offguard that his instincts couldn't rise up and stop him from saving himself. Wouldn't that be awesome?

If that was going to be the case, it wasn't yet. She instead just pecked at him like one of those birds that flies around an elephant and perches on its back, catching flies. Like an elephant, he laid there letting it happen without concern. It was a waste of her time, really, but if it was what she wanted to do then what different did it make to him.

Plus it felt... kind of nice...

Kind of.