Pride: Poison and Depravity
#11 of Pride
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Sean walked out into the courtyard that the manor surrounded and winced a little at the brightness of the sun overhead. It seemed to reflect off the pale walls and cobblestones to stab right through his eyes. He felt a bit of relief that they hadn't gone towards the normal kennels and maddening press of confined animals that snapped against his emotions. Rogeth walked at a brisk pace that made him almost have to jog to keep up on his shorter legs. The air smelled nothing of animal, only clean flowers that were blooming in their boxes and the warmth of the sun heated stone around him. Despite his time here, he still didn't know his way around the place. There were so many mazes and twists and turns that he often found himself baffled about where he was. Perhaps that was the reason it had been set up this way, but it made life difficult for him to say the least.
As they passed through a small door way he was led into another decorative garden, but this one was blemished in the fact that fully half of it was barred off with a large steel cage. The massive bars were as thick as his wrist and jutted up into the air to connect with a newly installed ceiling that shaded the area that lay beneath it. He could only surmise that this had once been a part of the garden, but now the cobblestones had been removed and sand thrown down over the area so that it spilled out on the area in front of the cage door. One of the boxes that had been used for flowers was now set up as a trough full of fresh flowing water and another set closer to the bars could only be for food. Just past the sandy start the area took on a more wild appearance that was dominated with a large trunk of tree that had been drug to lay at an angle and flowering vines that crept around it.
"What does this beast merit that the ones in the kennel do not?" He hadn't meant for anger to flavor the words, but they did. This looked as if it were the cage of a pampered pet. One given every pleasure that the owner could afford.
"You'll see..." The young man moved to the side of the cage and small alcove before striking out with a foot, "Up you lazy creature! You're supposed to be tending Ishtar, not sleeping the day away."
There was a yelp and the sound of someone falling down as a young man twisted and wriggled in the shadows. A small cot was overturned and the handler pulled himself out with his pale hair flopping in front of his eyes as he tried his best to avoid another sharp kick. Sean clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to smack Rogeth for treating the helper with such disrespect. When he had been young they treated their servants with a modicum of respect, not in this heavy handed way that bespoke less concern for him then the animal. He opened his mouth to at least attempt to talk some sense into the man when noise came from the enclosure. A hissing rattling noise that sounded as if someone were scraping metal upon metal followed by a low trilling churr that wafted upon the air in a questioning lilt.
The sound came louder a moment before a vibrant bronze head came through some of the vines boasting a set of intense gold eyes. The creatures head seemed to take up all of his vision as the muzzle parted in a soft hiss. His mind refused to take in the whole of what he was looking it. In one moment it looked almost like an overly large dracine drake, but then he saw the scales. It seemed almost a sacrilege to call them simply scales. A crest rose from the creatures head in the manner of ornate feathers. They looked like hammered bronze with the edges curling up in an intricate pattern akin to oak leaves. The head boasted a set of long ears that were similarly scaled with smaller less ornate scales which faded down to the more mundane interlocked appearance of a dracine. The muzzle was broad at first, but sharply tapered down as the scaled flesh hardened part way down to form a dark metallic beak like one would find on a hawk.
Then the creature hissed again and moved forward Sean saw a set of serrated teeth held in the beak, but it didn't seem to matter. The creature that stepped out seemed an impossibly combination of beauty and terror. The crest scales traveled down along the back and seemed to grow smaller before fading away, but that didn't end the glory of them. Instead they started again on a massive set of wings tucked in against the wiry thin body. They rattled and clicked together in a musical fashion as it walked closer to the bars. He felt almost giddy when he looked down at the aqualine claws at the ends of the front legs, while the haunches seemed to be purely created from a dracine. The long tail ended in a tuft of feathered scales that caught the light and flashed it back towards him. In the midst of the feather like scales he could see spikes that curled up into wicked points.
The golden eyes kept him in place as the creature looked at him with aloof wariness. It was the same gaze he had seen in captured tigers and lions. It knew that it could destroy him with a thought and a snap of its jaws. It didn't care either. It would fight if he tried to harm it, but it would leave him alone if he didn't disturb it. His hand itched to move out to try and touch the delicate seeming scales on the wings. They flowed so naturally he wanted to know if they were hard and stiff, or soft and giving to the touch. It was beautiful. Every inch of the creature seemed unreal. He almost expected to hear the whirr of clockwork gears that kept it in motion, but nothing like that came. He watched the chest rise and fall in great breaths while the eyes shifted away from him as if in dismissal and regarded its handler and Rogeth. No, this wasn't an it. It was a male. He could see as it sat it didn't hold a genital slit but a full finely scaled sheath between his legs.
"Sweet Illyian, your image before me..." He breathed out half in prayer. He could think of nothing else to say when confronted with the creature, but the name of the god of deserts and winds. Suddenly it seemed as if they had captured Him somehow. How else would this creature exist?
"Illyian? My, you are easily impressed." Rogeth's drawling words drew him out of his enamored contemplation of the beast. "This is Ishtar, the first of a new line, a new breed of creature. Cedric, go and get the leashes."
"How in Illyian's name did you create this?!" Sean watched as the strangely formed head turned to watch his handler with all the intelligence of a human it seemed. "A leash? You'd put a leash on this creature?"
"My Lady has many fancies an done is reviving the race of dragons. You've heard the Nyseen Empire is boasting they have them. We shall make our own better." Rogeth turned to look over the creature and for a moment Sean greed and longing in his gaze. "Ishtar shall be the first of a new race and you will help us to train him. He will be the father of creations so great and powerful that the armies of the world will tremble to see them. "
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Tintalia's parties had started to grow more renowned as she had stopped inviting large groups and instead extended it to a small inner circle of guests who intrigued her. She always allowed that air of mystery to hang over the events so that others would try to gain space and prestige by getting an invitation. It also allowed her to control those in her inner circle in particular ways. No one wanted to find themselves cast out, so they rarely questioned the eclectic tastes she indulged in. She believed that a few of them found enjoyment in indulging in such things themselves. Today, however, she chose to invite a small group of people today that numbered her oldest and most devoted followers. Those she deemed the most devoted to her cause and wouldn't betray her as they spoke over a rich meal in her dining hall. Especially since she had found reason to send Sean away from the building proper.
Sean was proving to be less useful then she had at first anticipated, but she also knew that it would take time to bring him around to her way of thinking. He seemed to value the welfare of the beasts more then she had thought he would, that would be hard to manage. She'd had Rogeth take him to see Ishtar and to show him that not all that dwelled in captivity did so poorly. She also had the faint hope that he might be able to communicate with the creature and tame him down. The falkaar was the first of his race, but he was singularly stubborn. He had been hatched under her trainers watchful eye, hand fed until adulthood, but he still refused any contact with those that wanted him to learn to accept armor and a saddle. As beautiful as he was, it was almost a waste. She hoped that as soon as she set the females to him he'd at least breed true and she could try with a new clutch. She shook her head to clear those thoughts away.
"I'm so glad you could all make in the midst of the trading season." She shifted back on the chair with her clothing spilling along her form. She noted one of the few men in attendance shifted his gaze away from her face immediately. There was little wonder that she kept women as her main confidences, though that was hardly the sole reason.
"We'd always come with an invitation from you, my dear." Lady Meera gave a small tight smile, "It's not often that we are invited when there is pressing business elsewhere."
"I'm sure I can see to your accommodations to ensure that this visit satisfies you." Tintalia allowed a small smile to cross her lips as Meera's cheeks darkened somewhat. "I've heard of what's happened on the coast. They call this Jathos a god now. I want to see what information we can garner on him that might put that status in jeopardy."
"He's a shapeshifter, that alone has made it nearly impossible to disprove his supposed godhood. He takes the shape of what they revere." Nikolei allowed himself a snort of disdain. "He recently overtook the Riathians or at least that's what he's claimed to have done."
"That's old news. The rumor lately has been he's patrolling the rivers and none of our barges are going to get through for the end of the trading season." Meera overran Nikolei with a frown. "I think he hopes to choke off our supply barges entirely."
"That would be a smart move, but not necessarily the right one." Tintalia frowned down at the table briefly. "He wouldn't have enough people to man all the rivers. He'd be diverting our barges briefly, but they'd still go through. What would he gain from control of the rivers in his area."
"Likely he'd offer to make a treaty. It would be easier for us to treat with him then to tack on weeks to bring grain and metal ore down a river farther away. Most of the nobles would want to treat with him." Ashe frowned and she licked her lips briefly. "I'm not meaning any offense, Lady, but each of us would be thrilled to control a river that was valuable. We'd be able to charge our own taxes because it would be the only river passage free. As it stands now the five principle rivers are under treaties of their own that supersede our claim to them."
"So, he'd be able to either set us at war or at least distract us with each other or he'd want to work out treaties that will allow him to claim the upper hand." Tintalia mulled the repercussions of a move over slowly in her own mind. Her eyes half closing. "No further word from the other provinces on their feeling on Jathos' advancement?"
"Only that they think he's an upstart and will fail within the first few attacks..." Meera leaned forward. "I think they don't see him as a threat because he's a shape shifter with no one to lead or guide. Even the few shifters we have in our various provinces have predicted he won't succeed. "
"That's the problem with tradition and religion..." Tintalia shook her head in annoyance. "They always crumble down because someone goes against or remakes the rules. I think he'll succeed because he's ignoring the rules. The same reason we will succeed." She allowed herself a small twist of her lips in triumph. "Now, we should concern ourselves with a more interesting past time while I mull this over." Silence and smiles met her remark. She could almost feel the anticipation on the air.
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Lathera watched as two other females were drug out of their pits as she remained tied in the small room off the main kennel. The sound of their hisses and choked cries made her wince as she pulled at her own bonds. The tube that had been shoved down her throat still hung from the corner of her mouth as the man who claimed to be her handler moved around the room with quick quiet efficiency. The sound of deeper pitches made her twist her head slightly as she could hear males not far off. Their sounds were unmistakable and she shuddered slightly as she could only imagine what they were going to do with the females. Suddenly being force fed didn't seem as if it were quite as horrifying as being forcibly bred. Nat stopped filling a bucket to shake his head as he looked out at the females being pulled off.
"Damn, more men..." He sighed and moved a hand up to rub against her neck scales. The touch made her flinch slightly. "Don't you worry, gal, it'll be a long time in coming before her Ladyship summons you for her party."
Party? What party? Did they all gather around the mating dracine and watch? What a revolting idea! She snorted her disgust before she felt another touch on her shoulder. This time it was wet as a damp cloth was squeezed out spilling the suds right down along the curve of her foreleg. She shifted and flared her nostrils open to taste the scent of soap on the air and felt her stomach sink. He was going to bath her?! She couldn't remember rightly the last time she had bathed, but to be bathed by an animal handler and chained up against a wall? She jerked against the restraints on her forelegs, but wasn't able to do more than inch them forward as he started to scrub her. It was a new experience and one that made her lower her head slightly feeling more wretched then she had before. And not simply because of the impersonal way he worked the clothe over her chest and stomach and back.
It felt good. It felt good to feel the old blood, mud and dirt worked out of her scales. It felt good to feel herself slowly coming clean after having been forced to lay in the dark and filthy pit. It felt good to simply be clean. That was more humiliating than anything else. He scrubbed up over her chest and the hard scales that covered her broad rib cage. She could imagine a time she had had breasts there, not a flat expanse devoid of even nipples. He worked beneath her elbows and she rolled her eyes down to watch as the grimy grey soap spilled down her foreleg in silent mockery to how animal like she had become. No, she was less than an animal. An animal would have at least cleaned herself with her tongue or taken a dust bathe, she had become something worse. She had probably stunk to her own kind as well as to sensitive human noses.
She tried to stop herself from relaxing, but the competent hands that ran over her body seemed to induce a relaxed state. They pushed against muscles and kneaded against the scales as the groomer briskly worked his way beneath the largest plate scales to get dirt that had managed to wedge beneath them. The abrasive sensation slowly faded away as the cloth pushed up beneath the edges and cleared away the worst of the spots. She found herself subtly pushing into the sensations as water dribbled down against the ground. By the time her scales were dripping with soapy water she felt clean for the first time in she didn't know how long. The suds seemed to have washed away the worst of the dirt and filth from the pit, as well as the subtle sharper scents of the pack of dracine she had run with. She could almost feel the smallest thread of being grateful that she was clean. But then the man stopped and gave her haunch a light slap that sounded louder due to the water that coated her scales.
"There, clean as can be, eh gal? Pretty thing like you shouldn't be wallowing in filth all the time." His voice came out in a croon that she had used and heard others use with animals in the past. It made her wince and tug at the restraints against the wall.
"What are you doing with that?" The words made her entire body freeze. They were harsh and short. She rolled her eyes slightly to see the man from the pack train standing behind the keeper. His stance was strangely stiff as if he was unsure how to hold himself and there was disapproving frown on his face.
"Cleaning her up and making sure she got a feed, m'lord Rogeth." The man's demeanor changed into one of subservience and wariness as Rogeth walked forward to stare down at her.
"Her ladyship requested that the females be brought out and displayed, why is this one not with the rest?" The words were slightly cold as the eyes never left her. It made her want to yank harder against the restraining bonds to turn her head away.
"She's just come in and dropped more than a bit of weight, sir..." The man trailed off slightly as the piercing eyes were moved from her to him.
"Then a bit of activity could provoke the appetite. I have high hopes for this one." The man glanced back sharply. "Bring it up to the blue room now that it's clean. We weren't expecting so many people here."
"Sir..." Nat closed his mouth and gave his head a shake, "Lookit her spine, sir, no good killin' her for a bit of sport."
"You're to feed and water the beasts, not advise me on their treatment." The noble glanced down at her again and lifted one brow as she glared back at him. "Bring her up anyway, she can be on display. We're bringing up two of the males that were brought in with her so it might provoke a better show if they get wind of her."
Nat didn't reply as the man turned and walk away. Lathera only felt her mind baffled by the words of a show. Her stomach turned slightly cold. If they were breeding dracine here, they might be fighting them as well. This far away from true civilization someone holding fights could earn quite a bit of money as long as they were merciless. She flinched away as the pole that had led her here was picked up and the pressure on her neck increased as it clicked into place. Her eyes flickered towards the grooms frown as he stared after the nobleman. It was obvious he didn't like him, though she couldn't specifically put her finger on why. It didn't take long for her bonds to be freed and the hated pole dug in against her neck hard enough that she hissed and snapped in protest as she forced into the hall way. One way or another she'd find out what they were talking about.
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Sean had never been so close to a creature that seemed to resemble a work of art in his life. It wasn't wild or struggling against its bonds when Cedric opened the cage with a leash, instead it behaved like a great cat. The neutral eyes had slid towards his handler and it seemed equally likely that he would snap out and crush the man as it would obey. The handler had been quick, but his movements obviously made to keep himself in sight of the drake. Only once two leashes had been secured in the heavy collar did the man start to step backwards leading the creature free from the cage. Each movement made him aware of the edges of the scales catching the light as they shifted and contracted. They had been perfectly placed on the body so that they could overlap each other or extend out as Ishtar walked onto the path way and turned the strangely formed head to regard him.
"What do you call them?" He turned his head to address Rogeth, but found nothing but space next to him. He frowned slightly and shrugged it off as his gaze returned to the beast that was settling down in front of him.
"Ladyship calls him a drapen." Cedric answered him, but didn't take his eyes off the creature. "We had a lot of sports before we got Ishtar out of the lot."
"Rogeth said he'd need training, but he seems calm enough." Sean moved forward slowly and watched as the bright eyes followed him and the moment he came within arm's reach of the creature a hiss came past the beak-like muzzle.
"Don't! He'll take your arm off!" Cedric glanced towards him and swallowed. "Ishtar has his own way, you obey it or he'll tear you apart. M'lady wants him trained to harness and saddle, but the most we can do is put a leash on him so far."
"I see, and I suppose that is my job." He sighed through his nose as there was a rattle of scales as the creature settled on his haunches and glared haughtily at him as if daring him to make the attempt. "Can I take the leashes?"
"If you want, just move nice and slow. Don't move out of his range of vision and whatever you do don't drop one of them. If he goes for your arm and gets a hold of it a firm pull will choke him. As long as one good arm has the leash you're good." Cedric walked forward slowly and let the leashes slip through his fingers. "He's a mean one."
"There aren't mean animals," He sighed softly as he tried to move forward and heard the acid hiss spill out between the lips again. "Just ones that people have turned vicious."
The transfer of the leashes went smoothly aside from a low growl from the beast's throat as it turned its eyes back and forth. The slit pupils flared wider nearly engulfing all of the orbs before going back down to thin slivers of darkness. The leashes were thick and far heavier than he had anticipated. Even as he held them he could feel the weight of metal carefully sandwiched between the leather for added strength. The moment he had a hold of the ends the drapen jerked his head back and gaped his beak open. The rows of teeth flashed in the light as the tongue arched itself up. To his horror he could see something silvery spilling along its teeth and pooling over the tongue. It wasn't the light, it truly had saliva that glittered as brightly as melted down metal before the jaws closed again with a faint click and the head lowered to consider him.
"Easy, easy beautiful boy..." he murmured softly and tried to reach out to touch the creature's mind. "Glorious creature..."
He murmured the words in a soft monotone voice that he often used with animals as he tried to feel out the creature's emotions. Curiosity and irritation warred with amusement in the beast's mind. The last made him stiffen slightly in shock at the warmth of humor that seemed to lurk beneath the solid gold of the great eyes. It was an almost human emotion, but even as he thought it he dismissed it. Ravens and most of the corvid family held a sense of humor, so why not a creature that obviously had some avian blood in it? He tried to draw closer to Ishtar's mind as the beast looked away from him and seemed to focus his attention on the pathway and the multitude of shrubs and flowers that were growing there. The attention was focused enough that he felt the need to glance over to see what was distracting the beast. The moment he flicked his gaze to the side he knew he'd made a mistake as the mild emotions of the creature surged like a bonfire in his mind.
The bronze scales flashed as the creature surged towards him and he stumbled back with an inarticulate cry. He could hear Cedric scream a warning before his vision was obscured the great bronze head and golden eyes. A heavy claw hit him in the chest sending him tumbling towards the ground before the creature loomed over him. He struggled against the claws as the paw curled down harder against his chest nearly scoring into his skin as he twisted and writhed. The creature's emotions tinged with something like sorrow before the jaws flashed down and snapped at his arm. The beak cut into his clothing and flesh as he shrieked out in pain. He could feel the teeth shredding muscle as thick viscous silver saliva rolled down out of the creatures jaw. The heat of it seemed to burn his flesh as the sound of shouts and metal surrounded him. His last sight was the great golden eye inches from his own as fiery pain drug him into darkness.
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Lathera had expected to be led into an arena such as the ones they often showed off gladiators in, but instead Nat pushed and tugged at the pole forcing her to take a set of stairs that were scored with hundreds of talon marks. She awkwardly walked down them, and though the handler didn't rush her, she realized that she was ungainly and ridiculous looking. Her back had to arch as she'd place her forelegs on the step and then hop down to crouch before going to the next stair. It was slow and humiliating. Once she had run up and down stairs at a speed that had gotten her chastised more than once, now she was barely able to stumble her way down. She nearly got to the bottom when she lost her grip on the stone and her haunches tumbled forward beneath her fore paws. She managed a pair yelp-hiss of surprise as she took the last four stairs at a tumble that landed her on her side.
"C'mon, up you get." The handler pushed the pole so that the collar dug roughly into her neck making her snarl but clamber onto her feet to relieve the sensation of pressure.
The walk along the courtyard made her realize that her nose could pick up the sharp scent of male and female dracine. It made her want to wrinkle her lips back in distaste, but the man behind her forced her to walk forward fast enough that it was almost uncomfortable. There were few people in the courtyard, those who were seemed to be in the same outfit that Nat wore. Hard leather vests, touch woven shirts and leather breeches. It almost appeared like a sort of uniform when compared to the gaudy outfits that she was used to people wearing. They glanced at her and a few gave slow smiles before going back to their gaming or talk. No one seemed to find it out of the ordinary when she was guided to a set of large open double doors and onto the fine marbled floor that clicked beneath her claws. The scents of other dracine came stronger as she was guided down towards a pale blue set of doors and a bored looking guard.
"This the last?" The guard glanced down at her and then up towards Nat impatiently.
"Yes." The word was short and curt. The guard's features darkened slightly as he stood up and made it a point to look down at the smaller handler. "Sir." The word seemed forced.
"Well, go on in and hand her over, the rest of the females have been set up for a while now." The Guard moved towards the door and turned his head, "Head down, slave, eyes to the floor. Remember your place."
The only hint of the handler's feelings came with the tremor that ran along the pole joined to her neck. He was a slave? Was that why he and the rest were dressed in a similar fashion? As far as she knew slavery was largely illegal, it had been for years. Indentured servants still existed, but they were rare. It could be possible to have them illegally of course, but she didn't think that it would be the norm around here. She glanced back towards Nat and saw his features contorted with carefully controlled anger. The doors slowly opened in front of her bringing with it the sharp sweet scent of some incense and the harsher musk of her kind. The guard held it open just wide enough to admit them and even then she was nearly scraping her side against the door's side. Did he deliberately do it to crowd her or to insult the handler? Her thoughts on the matter were taken from her as she was pushed through the open doors and her legs locked beneath her in shock at what she saw.
It was like a strange erotic dream taken from the depths of a demonic hell. Her eyes widened and she threw herself back on the collar until it bit into her neck making her wheeze. The room didn't boast furniture or a table or even something so crude as benches. It was filled with harsh tough looking pillows that were spread here and there throughout the area. It was lit faintly by small fat lamps that sat in small corners so that it looked as if shadows were moving everywhere. There were no windows that she could see, nothing but dark flat walls and the shapes that shifted and twisted in the faint lamp light. If she had been human she might not have been able to make out what she was seeing, but she wasn't human any longer. Her eyes were sharp and keen in faint light and she saw it in all its lewd glory spread out before her.
Women were nude and faint sheens of sweat shown on them. A pair were engaged in their own erotic touches close to the door so that when she passed them her leg nearly brushed against her. She expected them to jerk away from her presence, but instead one moved out to slide slick fingers against her haunch making her shy to one side and lunge against her collar. Laughter chased her as they walked deeper in and she came closer to what had stopped her in her tracks. A heavy bodied male dracine was bound on two legs with his front legs pressed against a wooden riser. His head was wrapped in a halter and forced to rest right against his front paws. His hind legs were forcibly spread with a cruel looking metal bar that was attached at his ankles restricting any movement he could gain by lifting up any of his appendages.
It wasn't the bondage that made her feel sick. It was the fact that his bound muzzle was less than a foot away from a female that was tied in a similar fashion. The only difference was her front legs were sprawled on the ground and her hind legs pushed her rump high in the air. Her tail was curled over on itself baring her slit so that it hovered almost over the muzzle of the trapped male. His tongue was rapidly flicking out and straining to escape past his lips to try and get at the female. Her nostrils picked up the sickly sweet tang of heat on the air. And beneath the male was a woman with her legs hooked against his haunches and impaling herself on his cock. Her lewdly spread folds gripped around the animals shaft as she controlled her own movements while the bound creature whimpered and tried to jerk his hips forward in a series of desperate maneuvers.
It was like she had seen one part of the whole and her mind flooded her with images of the room. Another male was hog tied with his legs wrapped up tight around a wood pole that was set firmly in a wall. A woman was pushed over his loins and heatedly pressing her lips against the man who was similarly engaged with a female. They flaunted the foul practice as the animalistic grunts on the air came from beast and human alike. They were being used as sexual toys. She could see a male straining and humping the air as his cock bounced uselessly beneath him as a man in front of him claimed a female. A woman teased him with her fingers and seemed to find delight in watching his furious struggles for release. She clawed at the ground and yelped as the fought against the pole as she was led towards one of the quieter corners. Quiet save for the drake bound on his side. A drake she recognized by his emerald colors.
She could see others near him, as well as humans walking along the line and stroking the bound creatures as if they were pets. No matter how they snarled or hissed they weren't given the chance to strike back. She had heard stories and whispers of nobles in backwater towns throwing morals to the winds, but this went beyond any excess she could have imagined. The scents of sex, fear, anger, and heat were filling the air so strongly that she felt dizzy as she dimly realized that her guide pole was being handed over to a stranger. She didn't care about the humiliation, she didn't care that she was acting like an animal. All she could think was that Nat was the only way she'd get out of here. The moment he started to walk off she lunged after him with a yelping cry trying to get his attention. She could see his back stiffen, but he didn't stop to come and get her. Abandonment and terror grew as she yelped again and threw herself against the collar until she started to gag. She wanted out of this place.
"Ohhh a spirited one..." The male voice made her cringe as a nude man stopped his rubbing of one of the females to peer at her. "Bring her over here, would you?"
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:He likes me...: Ishtar stared at Rogeth intensely as he let his beak rest on his forelegs. The man wisely remained out of reach of his claws on the other side of the cage door.
:Would that more could touch your mind, Ishtar, and they would learn a new appreciation for who and what you are.
:I did not like hurting him.: The drapen lifted his head and stretched the feathered scales along his head until they formed a tall crest and hissed softly. :He had done nothing to earn my bite.:
:Your venom will give him ears to hear you with, bronze king,: Rogeth tilted his head and smiled in that way that looked strangely threatening. :You often complain that I am not a fitting companion for your mind.:
:Let me go...: Ishtar avoided the conversation with a wistful tone as he looked at the gate of his cage. :My wings ache and grow weak. Let me go so I may use them.:
:Soon.: It was the same response he had always received, the same response he had learned to accept with a bubbling of anger. :Sleep well, Ishtar. I promise, one day you will feel the sky beneath you.:
He didn't respond to Rogeth. The spirit didn't seem to expect or desire a good bye or response, instead the footsteps left him alone in the dark as he stared at the hated bars. All his life he had been behind them. From the time he had first started to find himself trying out words in response to Rogeth's urgings he had been trapped behind metal bars and bound by a collar. He couldn't remember a time that he had been free or been able to stretch his body as it craved to be stretched. Even his times outside of his cage he was kept on a leash and high up men were ready with metal nets to drag him to the earth if he tried his wings. His only companion was the creature that seemed to control his captivity. It was all he had ever known, but he knew he should have been more. He could feel his wings weakening as they remained tucked in at his side and muscles that should have been strengthening remaining soft.
So often he wanted to strike down the arrogant spirit that insisted that he remain a captive. Yet for each time he nerved himself to strike down the strange human, he faltered. Once Rogeth was gone he would be alone with humans that saw only an animal. Could he truly free himself without help? He lacked thumbs and the size he would have to be to leave through the hall. So he bided his time. Only the promise of freedom 'soon' had coaxed him into biting the man who had admired him so. The man had almost seemed to understand him and for a moment as he stared into those round pupiled eyes he had felt a strange sense of kinship before Rogeth urged him to strike. Ishtar rubbed his chin against his forelegs uneasily as he glanced out at the darkened spot that had been caused by the humans leaking blood. Even now he could barely touch the others mind. But it was something. Even the smallest reprieve from the constant march of time locked away was something.
He hated and needed the humans in a way that left him irritated at the best of times. Some were more tolerable than others, but largely they were deaf, smelly and intrusive. He had tried to hammer into them that he could speak, but they did little more than flinch and brush him away. His ability to speak; was it a curse or a gift that Rogeth taught him? He flexed his claws against the ground and felt the venomous saliva gathering along his tongue as he grew more irritated and force himself to calm down. The sting of it cleared his mind as he forced himself to swallow it and gave himself a shake to settle his feathers. Like it or hate it Rogeth had him under his control for as long as he was trapped here. Sometimes the creature made sense, but more often he seemed slightly mad. Such as his desire that he attack the man earlier and infect him with his venom. The act that of a mad man, yet he had no room to argue and every reason to hope that it would work.
The man was feverish and scared. He could vaguely tell that the man dreamed of the jungle and something blue scaled and sleek. He wanted to reach out to see if he could make the human hear him, but held back. The strange incoherent dreams repelled him as his venom raged through the small body. The few times he had bitten before he had killed, he could only hope that the man didn't die. There were few that appreciated him and fewer still that had the possibility of hearing him. He sighed out and watched his breath fog the air in front of him. It rose up and he followed it as it railed higher and higher towards the star filled sky. How long would he remain here? How long until he could take to the skies and teach the people that dared hold him prisoner a lesson? How long until he knew freedom? The cold and silent stars gave him no answers.
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