You Didn't Make the Naughty List
Chistotle
11-29-2021, 08:36 AM
Erys didn’t catch Chimera’s pink eye as he turned even before the knock at the door. Erys felt his gaze on him as there was a pause between his question and the answer from the King. The slave didn’t realize the praise beneath that dual toned gaze, and only was doing as he was told. He was giving himself to the fullest of his ability, as was demanded of him. There was a simple answer given, no he was not needed the rest of the evening. Erys gave a quick bow, but was careful not to disturb the King further back away from the door and quickly made his way to the next destination.
As was implied Erystotle made sure his coat was kept immaculate for his new master. Dirt no longer marred his pristine pelt. He tried to remember the time before his enslavement when he had once cared deeply about his appearance. His horns were recovering more slowly compared to his fur, they still flaked and were dry, but after every bath Erys oiled and buffed them. Soon they would return to a glorious luster.
Able to draw his own baths now he worked quickly and thoroughly, cleaning himself to perfection before finally making his way to bed. So far his sleep had been deep and dreamless, he’d been so exhausted in the first few days of living in the pack. Now he tried to work himself to sleep and he embraced the healing darkness.
Curled and wrapped in the soft furs Erys could feel safe, but there was a deeper part of him that had not settled, that was still frightened and uncertain and ready for the other shoe to drop so to speak. Past trauma and habit created the scene that developed in his sleeping mind. Outwardly he began to twitch, but inwardly he was being chased. Hunted. Erys couldn’t clearly see what was chasing him, but he felt as if it were his past captors along with a massive monster. The curse.
In his dream Erys ran because if he was caught then he would be dead. They would kill him. Outwardly his his limbs began to race, tangling the furs around his limbs and exposing his emaciated frame. He started shivering and whining. Softly at first but as he ran in the dream his legs tangled outwardly and as the monsters drew near his began to cry out in his sleep.
As was implied Erystotle made sure his coat was kept immaculate for his new master. Dirt no longer marred his pristine pelt. He tried to remember the time before his enslavement when he had once cared deeply about his appearance. His horns were recovering more slowly compared to his fur, they still flaked and were dry, but after every bath Erys oiled and buffed them. Soon they would return to a glorious luster.
Able to draw his own baths now he worked quickly and thoroughly, cleaning himself to perfection before finally making his way to bed. So far his sleep had been deep and dreamless, he’d been so exhausted in the first few days of living in the pack. Now he tried to work himself to sleep and he embraced the healing darkness.
Curled and wrapped in the soft furs Erys could feel safe, but there was a deeper part of him that had not settled, that was still frightened and uncertain and ready for the other shoe to drop so to speak. Past trauma and habit created the scene that developed in his sleeping mind. Outwardly he began to twitch, but inwardly he was being chased. Hunted. Erys couldn’t clearly see what was chasing him, but he felt as if it were his past captors along with a massive monster. The curse.
In his dream Erys ran because if he was caught then he would be dead. They would kill him. Outwardly his his limbs began to race, tangling the furs around his limbs and exposing his emaciated frame. He started shivering and whining. Softly at first but as he ran in the dream his legs tangled outwardly and as the monsters drew near his began to cry out in his sleep.
