Lion Head Mesa shaduf [m]

ramesses indulged his eyes with charles as the coywolf did his bidding. his smile only slanted upwards sharply when the other began to cough. and now the fermentation would burn the back of his throat, hopefully bringing about the effect already felt by the divine man.
"when we last met you were alone with no people." ramesses spoke gently, crossing his forelegs. "and before that time, you were the plaything of nyra." harsher then, but charles had known his disdain in the strath and he would know it now.
his lazuli eyes glinted with many things. "but now you are here, and i have the power to grant many things. you need only name them, charles." a lazy, catlike flick of his pale plume.
he had known that the ragged man would return; not so ragged now, with filled-fur and a glossy sheen to his pelt. but the shyness and scarring remained. 
he thought what it might be to have the other, to possess him. to mold him and to shape him. ramesses hated the way that charles crept about like a peon. he was meant for more than this.
a thought began to fill his mind.
but for now he was silent, satisfied as a spoilt and well-bred cat as he waited for the other to respond.