Lion Head Mesa shaduf [m]

Charles remained tense, but he did not move. In all honesty, Charles wasn't too sure that he would be able to move even if he tried; he felt completely rooted to the ground and his reactions were slow, anyway. A part of him told him to run, screamed inside his head to get out of here, but another part of him told him that he deserved this (whether for good or bad). The coywolf was not used to such gentle touches, and even the touch to his shoulder made him tense up and nervously stare at Ramesses, as if expecting him to lash out.

He had not been beaten, so why did he deserve to be touched this softly? His brain did not understand, causing Charles to feel uneasy.

The other side of the wealth. What does that mean? he drawled, his voice weird from the berries. There is no judgement here, Charles, he said, but it wasn't true. This is not right, Charles said, his words soft and broken up as he tried to contain all of the self-hatred that he felt inside. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural.