Northstar Vale Not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things

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The shift from traveling with Athan alone to with a group had been a difficult one, but he’d slowly started to adjust to the changes. Whilst he trusted none of the others—the child included—he refused to run away as long as his master was around. He believed that he would be protected at all costs, and had even developed a sort of attachment to the older male. It was with the vampire that he slept each night, knowing that no harm would befall him in the darkness as long as he never left the other male’s side. The price of his companionship was still a curious thing, but he felt himself to be compensated well enough for it to not matter; for as long as he’d be protected, the man could do with him as he pleased, for that was the mentality that he’d been groomed to possess.

From a dreamless slumber, the yearling had been roused, nudged into consciousness by the very same man whose warmth he borrowed each evening. Whilst the beast’s limbs were draped over him, Mazatl’s own were folded neatly beneath his body, tucked in to better retain the heat his body produced. And although he was without the desire to remain awake, he’d blinked the sleep away from his eyes and then looked around, taking in his surroundings before he twisted his head around to stare at his master. With a yawn, he shifted around so that he was then facing Athan, putting less strain on his neck; whilst doing so, he’d pulled his forelimbs out from beneath his body and rested his chin over the one. Little attention was paid to those that had decided to speak, his focus being on watching and waiting to see when he would have to rise to his feet.

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