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

[table][tr][td valign=center] [/td][td]

So much had happened in such a small amount of time, and yet, not much had really changed. The boy, having believed himself to be free only a few days prior, was anything but. There was not a female leading him, however, for the Cihuāpilli lingered still within the realm of his previous domain. Now, it was a man that would protect him, feed him, care for him—oh, how terribly peculiar it was! Mazatl was not unaccustomed to pleasing male suitors, having bedded down with many weary travelers in the past, but it was the first time that he would be spending more than a single night with one. For as long as he would be told to serve, he would remain with the beast. It made him wonder: what might his mother think? The thought disturbed him, awakening memories best left in the past, and so he tossed them away and focused back on the present. He had a master—Tăti—and that was who he needed to devote his attention to.

Mazatl did not pull away when the male touched him but had instead leaned against him, falling into old habits. Instructed to rise, he struggled at first but, with Athan’s help, eventually found his balance and was able to move. As if there were a string connecting the two, the yearling stayed as near to him as he could, occasionally using the greater wolf’s body to keep from toppling over. Moving was difficult, but the boy made sure to keep himself from falling behind. As he was led away, he made sure that he was always close enough to reach out and touch his muzzle to the man’s flank, silent and wondering about what sort of life awaited him.

[/td][td valign=center] [/td][/tr][/table]