Lion Head Mesa safflower

He had not expected so much trust from this girl. Not one so young. Was it out of naivety? Possible, but not likely. She was a royal child; blood of the white ruler. How could she have been raised thus far without the proper teachings? He didn't believe that it could be so.
It was easy to see that, through him, this amiirad knew what she wanted. As Ramesses had already made known, both would have their way with his obedience and mold him into the most quintessential puppet. Even Khaba himself knew... it was fitting for a disciplined beast such as he.
When the mazoi showed hesitance towards the meat brought by the girl's order, she took time to sever the flesh, keeping a chunk for herself and the rest left for him. 
He was not starved, hence he would not ravage the provision — though, out of gratitude, he would still eat regardless of his appetite. And so, in a gentlemanly manner (or as much so as he was able) the mazoi began to nibble on the offering.
The meat tasted fresh and piquant. A tender, pleasant reward. Now that he'd begun to eat, a pang of hunger struck where it before had not been. Maybe he was hungrier than he chose to admit. After all, the beast was one that required much sustenance.