anthro blue_eyes blush breasts brown_hair clothed clothing collar female fur hair jewelry kneeling looking_at_viewer necklace nipples outside partially_clothed smile solo solo_focus tail_up tan_body tan_fur topless topless_female tuft doc_(director) felid lion mammal pantherine 2:3 absurd_res full-length_portrait hi_res portrait shaded soft_shading story story_in_description
"I don't have much"

[section=Story]
He wasn’t exactly an expert. He had been to the market plenty of times before, but the thought of potentially buying [i]someone[/i] instead of [i]something[/i] was nerve-racking. 

There weren’t too many girls left, most of them had been bought already. It started as an auction, trader getting the most money for the curvy girls that seemed to be built for a single purpose. They were snatched up by the highest bidder, the wealthy elites that ventured into the peasant’s market for their exotic prize. He had passed by a few of them on his way in.

Once the high value girls had been bought, the traders sold to anyone who could pay. The stocky girls that could help with work after a long night of “other duties” were the next to sell, and the ones that were advertised to cook and clean went just as fast. The few girls that remained were shorter, meager things, apparently too small for work and too thin for entertainment, so business had slowed to a crawl.

He started towards the group, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, but close enough to get a good look. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, in fact he hadn’t even planned on making a purchase. It was curiosity more than anything at that point.

The group of leftover girls watched the market crowd with desperation, eager to catch the eye of anyone who might be willing to pay and give them a new life, or at least a chance at one. They all knew that if they weren’t sold here, the next stop was the front lines where they would be sold for next to nothing to soldiers as one-time-use girls. This was their last chance, and they were making it count.

Some danced completely nude, calling out, and begging to be bought, promising to make it worth wile in just a single night. Some stood dressed in their simple white robes, with a bucket and a mop, hoping the props would help them sell the look.

As he paced out in front of a particularly obnoxious female wolf, he suddenly felt his shoulder slam hard into something that knocked him to the ground. 

“Watch it!” came bellowing from the deep voice of a bear walking past, unfazed, without even glancing in his direction. Catching his breath, he started to get up from the floor before realizing his bag had been knocked from his shoulder, sliding back towards the group of girls.

Immediately the loud group rushed to his side, a cacophony of overly feminine voices fighting for his attention, each of them careful to get as close as possible without physically touching him.

“Oh no are you alright!?”
“Take me home I’ll make you all better!”
“You could use a good meal!”
“Let me clean you up!”

“Please, n-no thank you” he stammered, overwhelmed. None of the girls wasted a single second. Instantly forgetting he existed and going back to heckling the nearest patron glancing their direction once they realized he was a lost cause. 

Suddenly from the back of the group, a pair of piercing blue eyes met his. She was a lioness of the same height and build, but with no desperation in her face. She instead wore a soft smile, and gently handed his bag over from the floor. It was as if she had already lost her hope of leaving, her will to fight or to haggle, and this was her last good deed before being sent off to the front lines. She was genuine.

He was puzzled for a moment, then returned an awkward smile. “Thank you,” he said quietly, taking his bag from her hand. Her smile disappeared, as she was snapped back to the reality of her situation. A weak muttered “don’t mention it” left her lips as her white robe began to droop unevenly from her shoulders and her hair began to cover her face, but she made no attempt to fix it. Instead, she returned to her slumped posture on the floor, knees to her chest, head resting in her hands.

The haunting thoughts made their way back into her mind like snakes. How the capitol had destroyed her village, how desperate she was when the traders found her, alone, exhausted, and naive enough to sign her life away for food and water. The world went silent as she spiraled into her own thoughts, replaying the painful memories over and over again, waiting out her last day before the solders got ahold of her and sealed her-

A startling thud snapped her from her trance. Next to her on the floor was the bag, once again, and the crouched form of someone familiar. Confused, she handed him the bag.
“I don’t have much,” he said, his eyes locked with hers, taking the bag again. “but I’ve got a roof and plenty of food. It’s a lot of farm work, but I could really use someone to help me fix the equipment or…”

Realizing what was happening she sat up on her knees, letting the top of her robe slide completely off. She could learn the equipment. She could learn to cook, or work, or clean. But she noticed how he ran his eyes over her entire body, and she knew there was something she would do for him for sure. This was her ticket out.

“Help me in any way that she could…” he gulped, finishing his sentence with a nervous smile as the lioness revealed herself to him. She returned the smile and asked politely, “want me to hold your bag?”
[/section]
I don't claim to be an artist, or a writer, but I've always wanted to put a story to these pictures!