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

*cries because this post sucks*

The boy looked so ready to fall and yet he kept himself up, high, defying the urge and need to plummet to the ground and readily give himself to his new master. Athan watched him stagger, wondering what the point of it all was, when he was already his. He shook his head, clucking his tongue as he strode closer to him, leaning onto him, trying to shift the boy's weight onto his own shoulder. I am here; there is no need for such bravado, He murmured, his nose sifting through his shoulder fur.

Despite his best efforts, the boy slipped to the ground, piece by piece, just like his will. The bond, the pact, was cemented between them. Athan felt a rush of possessiveness flood over him at the final nod. He laid his head over the boy's neck in a corrupted kind of embrace. He felt the head shake this time, his name left a mystery. Athan shrugged. You will tell me eventually, I am sure,