Iktome Plains And when the crimson moon comes up, he drinks the blood of slaves

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Since having begun traveling with the pale one, he’d only ever left her presence when ordered to do so. Without the lead—the command—of another, the boy could not exist, and so he strove to ensure that he was never without said type of figure in his life. Their words were his to obey, their will to be made into his own. When told to jump, he’d do exactly that without question, and never would he stop until told that he was permitted to do so. And so, when the time had come for him to be sent out in order to scout out the surrounding areas, Mazatl had neither questioned nor argued against the order. It was his to fulfill, for the woman had demanded it of him; she’d been titled as his leader solely because of her sex and his upbringing. Females were the fairest of the sexes, as well as the fiercest, and he’d never been allowed to forget that. So the Tētlauhtilli obeyed and distanced himself when it was necessary, trailing over the land as he sought to see what might be laying in wait for the trio.

It was within the plains that he’d found himself, the terrain not unfamiliar but also not something that he could regard as a safe place. With frayed nerves he’d proceeded forward, head low but ears perked—if there was anything to be heard out there, he’d catch it, investigate, and then report back. More often than not, it was only coyotes or animals of prey that he came across, but this time... no, this time was not at all like the previous instances. It was not a lesser canine that’d been spotted, but a ghostly figure whose essence alone made the boy freeze and quiver were he stood. There was something most peculiar about the male, the sight of his body moving across the land having struck him with a most unsettling feeling—like the upset felt in one’s stomach right before a storm. Mazatl had wanted to turn around, but he hadn’t been able to. No, a life of conditioning and a need to serve his new leader kept him right where he’d stopped just moments prior. Away from the male had his head turned, muzzle pointed downwards whilst his body lowered itself, knocking several inches off of his already lacking height. Perhaps if he continued with the brothel’s customs, he might be able to send the stranger off in a direction opposite to the one that the yearling had come from, which was all that he hoped to achieve.

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