Hideaway Strath run away

The words shook Charles to his core. I want to have you. What did that even mean? Did he want him as a slave? Did he want to make him do things? Did he — No, that would be wrong. Everyone knew that would be wrong. Did Kynareth know it was wrong? Was this perhaps some crazy sinner's paradise and Charles didn't realise it until this very moment? His heart rate quickened as Ramesses mentioned 'your kind'. What did that mean?

I'm not a tool for use, Charles said, somewhat annoyed, and struggling to find the words in his limited vocabulary to express himself. And my 'kind' is wolf. He said this last thing defensively; as though he understood perfectly fine what Ramesses meant when he said your kind but he didn't want to be referred to as anything coyote. He'd heard it meant bad things. He was tired of being seen as bad things.