"Broken Shards"

[zauberdecke]

"In the dark
I need to taste the blood
Go on, draw another line
We can cross this time."
- Blindfold by Sleeping Wolf

---



[ Essek Thelyss: Shadowhand to the Dynasty.

One who reached further then the Luxon would allow, who would do absolutely anything for knowledge. Oh no, the man did not care for power, not really. He wanted to cast himself into the portal of knowing, he wanted to surrender himself to books and learning without having to deal with the mundanities of socio-politics that all of the Kryn engaged in. It was tedious and it filled him with sickness even as he plastered on an urbane smile for all and sundry to see.

Within the Dynasty, it was customary to take pets of the Empire; they were brought in across the border of Asarius, across the mountains and into the Dynasty. There were Dynasty born pets on the other side, both lost to the ravages of the other's civilization, generally never to be seen again.

Essek had never really had an interest to begin with when it came to pets; at the market he carefully avoided the slave blocks where those not of the Dynasty were paraded around. However, it had come to this-- it had come to his trading of the Beacon, and in return he recieved a Volstrucker to serve him. And yet, for all of that, Essek Thelyss had not thought he would receive a broken Volstrucker.

In fair trade, he and recieved a dossier on the man in question and had perused it with only a small semblance of annoyance while Trent Ikithon had assured him that a man like him could be rebuilt, the honeyed words of a silken snake which Essek recognized.

After all did not a predator recognize another predator? So now he held in his household a man whom had to be guarded carefully, though Essek was not cruel despite how he imagined Dynasty pets were treated, the cage that he had placed this Volstrucker named Bren within, well it was comfortable-- he'd seen pictures of Vergossen so he supposed it must be far better than that place. But he had not precisely interacted with him-- most of his unseen servants were given the walking of him, the care and maintenance of him.

Perhaps because he did not precisely know what to do with him, or what use he had for something broken. Though he arguably did not know what manner of broken the Volstrucker was, but after a week-- he decided perhaps it was time to summon him and see for himself; acertain what sort of work was cut out for him.

If this man was worth putting back together again.

So it was one evening, he had the Empire man summoned to his chambers. ]

Comments

[ausgebrannt]

[Ikithon did nothing without reason. If Bren had to guess, this was a convenient way to dispose of an embarrassment yes, but he was also here as a means to spy on the man in front of him, in some way or another. Not that Bren would report back to Trent. No, he'd give that man nothing ever again, would die before he offered him anything but disdain or perhaps a fitting death for the old monster.

He nodded. He could understand, yes. And he could behave, if that was what was required of him. Perhaps there was a flicker of relief that he would not be left alone entirely. He had been trapped inside himself for so long. He did not want to be alone any longer.

And for his ice queen master, he nodded.

Still, that spark of something in blue eyes chose this moment to manifest itself. He was silenced, but not every spell required his voice. His gaze snapped to where a fire was burning in the fireplace. A quick, precise flick of his fingers and the flames leapt to his hands, forming an image, a clear, neat script written of flame, in Common: 'I understand.']

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek's gaze flicked to the fireplace, watching the words get spelled with the flames; he raised a brow though it was considering but not in annoyance, not really. That was, well-- a notebook would be provided no matter; after all fire could not be accessed everywhere. ]

The first rule is that you will not embarrass me in public. You will behave as expected; when I am sitting-- you will be kneeling at my feet. you will not speak unless spoken to, and I will not have your eyes wander unless it is to observe how other pets behave for their owners.

[ He took a sip of his wine and then he nodded in the the direction of the floor right at his feet, it was a telling look and if Bren could interpret that? Well then all the better for him, it meant that he could be trained. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren spread his fingers and the flames settled back to being nothing more than flames burning in a hearth. His hands fell down by his sides, and he listened to what the drow had to say. It wasn't as if he could speak anyway, even if he wanted to. And what good would it do him to struggle against what he was now?

He should be grateful that he'd not been given to someone violent and cruel. He ducked his head in understanding. In acknowledgment. Still, he did not miss the way that Essek nodded, did not miss the implication of the unspoken command.

Before he even consciously intended to, he was moving, settling himself on his knees at the Shadowhand's feet, risking a glance up at the other man. That spark lingered there, but behind it a softer question, as if to ask if he'd done as he was meant to, if he'd done good.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Impressive.

Essek kept that in the back of his mind; this ability that his pet seemed to have, though he did not allow that impressed expression to show on his features; it felt like he was bored-- something that he had schooled for himself even though, realistically he was bored 9 times out of 10 with all the social events that he was required to go to, not only as the Shadowhand but also as a Scion of Den Thelyss.

The placement of the hands at the side was not lost in Essek; at least the Empire Dog was subservient enough; there had been no indication that he was particularly rebellious nor willful despite that initial spark, and he rested on his knees at Essek's feet and looked up with a look that was more puppy than dog.

A hum emmerged from the Shadowhands lips though it was unclear whether it was in thought or approval. Best not to assume these things, nor grow comfortable with them. ]

The Second Rule is as follows: My touch is not an invitation for you to touch me unless I give you clear and concise permission to do so; when you are standing or kneeling, your hands will be clasped behind your back as you await my commands. If I give you a command to do something, unless clearly specified, you may then use your hands.

Am I understood?

[ He looked down at the other man, he was closer now-- close enough that he could see the tinted blue glass of those eyes, part glazed and part sharp; like broken blue sea glass that washed up on the beaches of Jigow.

However as a concession, Essek did shift a little-- leaning forward so that he could deftly remove the tie that kept Bren's hair back, until the hair fell in long amber locks around shoulders. Such beautiful hair, he had to admit-- it looked soft and like silk; invited to be touched. And Essek knew he had permission to touch, after all this was a pet whore, and he could do what he wanted with him, couldn't he? ]

You will not tie your hair back, you can consider that Rule Three.

[ And then Essek could not resist fingering lightly through those locks of hair, arranging waves until they fell perfectly. It felt like a good boy, unspoken though it was. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Puppy, yes. But a puppy who had been taught to bite and kill then broken and left shattered. He had the potential to be dangerous, and enough fear and anger in him that only amplified that risk. He'd killed a man at Vergossen before his escape had been halted, before Trent Ikithon had appeared and left him a trembling, cowering mess.

Still, Essek had given him no reason for that fear or fury to be triggered -- though a lingering caution lingered about a man who had dealings with Trent Ikithon. Bren listened, giving a nod of acknowledgment even as he shifted to settle his hands behind his back. He could be obedient.

His eyes widened, a faint flinch in him as Essek reached towards him, but when the other man only freed his hair, some of that tension seemed to ease from him. When those fingers slipped through his hair though, a frisson ran through him, not of chill, but of something dangerously close to pleasure, a race of goosebump across his entire being. When was the last time he'd been touched with anything that wasn't violence? He was so busy warring with himself at how much he wanted that touch to linger that he almost missed that next rule.

But he nodded once more.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The test that Essek had levied toward Bren was passed with flying colours. The shift was immediate, the moment that the rule was stated, the hand went behind the back. There was a hesitancy-- after all he was not used to the very act of having a pet, as he allowed his fingers to slid through hair along with an uttered. ]

Good boy--

[ His touch remained gentle yet firm, perhaps even a bit of awkwardness of this; he did not believe in being cruel though he may be dismissive which was his own hubris-- much as it was the case with most of the higher ranking Kryn Dens. ]

Unfortunately I have not thought of a Fourth Rule, so perhaps we will just state that I will be allowed to make up Rules as I see fit, but they will make sense-- if we are playing a game, I will tell you that we are playing a game; I will not leave you to guess if there is a game being played or not. [ So there would be no mind games that were not known. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren's breath caught in his throat at the sound of those words, the only sound he was capable of at the moment with the magical collar fastened around his throat. Perhaps that was a small mercy, because who knows what noise would have made it past his lips in that moment. It stirred something in him that he didn't entirely understand, an electric snap that then settled and pooled like something molten in the core of him.

Despite himself, his eyes slipped half-lidded for a moment, basking in that stroke of fingers through his hair. Was he really so pathetic, so starved of touch and anything even approaching a shadow of affection? And he knew it wasn't actually affection. He was a bargaining chip, a pet, a plaything at best.

It was still more than he deserved. His gaze fell away at that thought, downcast and gazing at the floor ta his feet now, nodding once more. He would be grateful for that too. He'd been through too many manipulations and mind games already.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The Shadowhand really did not like that collar; it loomed like a presence that he could not quite shake free. He had dealings with Ikithon and Da'leth-- but it did not necessarily mean that he had liked the encounter, he also knew there was much more manipulation in play than was let on. He would have to do some experiments on that collar, see what he could determine from it.

Later, of course.

But he had to admit that his pet was very pretty; and this was not something he was used to thinking about anyone. It was a matter to dissect later; that being said he got up from the chair where he had been sitting and then made his way to a float to his desk so that he could pen out a missive. ] We will have to get you outfitted in garments suitable to a Pet of your standing.

[ A Pet of Den Thelyss was only outranked by one of Den Krynn, whereas a Pet of Den Mirrim were of an equivalent standing. ] You will stand now and use your hands to disrobe, I would like to see the property that I am working with, Pet.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren's head snapped up as Essek moved, staying where he'd been put for the time being. His gaze tracked the drow with each step he took, watching in silence and the start of curiosity. Who was this Shadowhand? How had he caught Trent Ikithon's attention?

The failed volstrucker was still turning that thought over in his head when Essek spoke once again. He wondered what exactly your standing meant, and what that would mean for any clothing he'd be expected to wear, though he supposed he would find out.

The next command brought him to his feet, though there was a flicker of hesitation, the start of a flush that wanted to rise in his cheeks. Bren had never been the sort for any overborn modesty or body shyness, but there was something flustering about the idea of stripping in front of a stranger in order to be inspected.

It only lasted an instant before he obeyed, undressing from the simple tunic and pants that he'd been given, letting them fall to a small pile by his feet. Naked now, he remembered himself, blushing or not, to clasp his hands once more behind his back. He was thin, bordering on too thin. Pale skin was dusted across shoulders and back with a scattering of freckles, with chest hair the same ginger as the waves of hair falling about his shoulders.

In the moment before he'd shifted his arms behind himself once more, Essek may have caught sight of long-healed scars. At looking closer, the drow would see the bruises in various stages of healing, the aftermath of his escape attempt from the Sanitarium and the punishments that had followed. His gaze cheated up to glance at Essek once more before his eyes dropped once more.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Never before had Essek allowed himself a look at the Empire Pets that here and there were paraded around-- each household had a pet, and depending on the members, some had several. At functions they were lead around by leashes, or if one was particularly well trained, by mere command. He'd never been interested overmuch in the training of pets however this man, of sharp eyes underneath soft and dreamless gaze-- perhaps he could learn to enjoy it.

As such he allowed his eyes to caress over the body bared to him.

Perhaps there was a widening at the sprinkling of body hair (which was a rarity for Drow, his own body hair was relegated to only three distinct places) and then downward until he rested on those endowments- ah, so it was true then that Empire men were built generously?

His eyes caught on the bruises and his eyes flared slightly; in a household-- no one was allowed to cause such marks except for the owner. He had to remember that he had not been in possession of the Volstrucker until a few weeks back, but they were still so dark.

He approached Bren then and said in a crisp and cool voice. ]

Did anyone in my household bruise you like that? [ He had to be sure, his voice was interrogating as he drew close enough where he could place two fingertips underneath Bren's chin, making sure that the Pet was looking him right in the eyes. ] If they did, they will be dealt with-- the only person who will ever be allowed to mark you in any way is myself... going forward.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren was certain he could feel that gaze as it raked over him, could tell where eyes lingered, and found himself fighting the urge to squirm where he stood. Did his owner find him at all worth looking at? Or was how flawed and broken he was writ visibly in his physical form? And why did this man's approval matter so much?

Another flinch as Essek moved closer, at the tone of his voice. He let his chin be lifted though, surprise visible in cerulean eyes at the question, at the fact that it would matter.

For a moment he found himself looking into the drow's eyes, close enough now to see that there were flecks of gold in the night sky violet. Beautiful. His master was objectively beautiful. And why did his mind need to fix on that detail exactly?

Without thinking he opened his mouth to answer, forgetting that his voice was still stolen from him. His lips formed the silent words, 'No. No one here.' before he remembered and gave a small shake of his head.]

[zauberdecke]

[ The briefest sounds, and it was barely a sound-- a voice attempting to get out and yet was unable to; could see the tongue as it touched the palate to attempt to form the 'no', the widening of the mouth into an 'oh'-- before the attempt died on those lips. His fingers slid just underneath chin, against jawline and then he nodded with a bit of approval. He saw the scars on the forearms, jagged marks that were from years ago and yet still lingered.

There would be no avoiding the Shadowhand's gaze, it would be futile for him to even try.

Finally he allowed his fingers then to lightly skirt against throat, watching how the adam's apple seemed to swallow nervously and then watching the way that the sun kisses banked against the palest of skin. His eyes wanted to go downward, to follow the trail of very human hair to see where it would go.

Fascinated, despite himself.

He could feel a pull, an instantaneous something that coursed through him. He wondered why Trent Ikithon was so eager to get rid of him, what secrets did he hold? Such a beautiful and sad man; Essek would never have been able to tell anyone what his type was but there was an almost dazed 'perhaps this man was his type?'.

Best not to show weakness. So he stepped backwards a few steps, or rather floated backwards so that he could survey the man even further still.] ambers and purples, I think that those would look the best with your colouring, perhaps a hint of blue to bring out your eyes...

[ausgebrannt]

[He had not spoken for a decade, not really, lost in himself, save for screams when nightmares and memories combined to torture him. And now, now that his mind was cleared, the nightmares came more often, with every night's sleep, a replaying again and again of the fire and the screams of fear and pain as his parents burned. The one true benefit of the silencing collar, he supposed, was that all the nights he had woken up screaming and crying in terror since he had been left in this place had gone unheard, unnoticed.

He lifted his chin further at the touch of those fingers, another shiver dancing over his skin, oddly electric He found himself immediately missing the touch as Essek stepped back, a reaction that sent another flush through him. Was he so eager to play the good obedient pet?

Blushing or not, he still watched Essek, eyebrows rising in surprise at the commentary. He had no idea what to expect as the Shadowhand's plaything, but apparently a wardrobe chosen to suit him had not been in his imaginings.]

[zauberdecke]

[ There was a hum as Essek slowly floated in a circle around Bren, his eyes not missing the ribs that could be seen plainly, the concave of stomach, the sharpened points of the pelvic bone as it bore a vee downward toward where Bren's cock hung, rather huge despite it's sleeping state. He licked his lip as he saw the spine and how sharp it all looked, everything about this man was sharp.

Just as cutting as himself.

Though he did not miss the freckles that were scattered all over the Volstrucker slave's body; including the nicely defined rear.

That was besides the point. ]

Rule Four, you will eat whatever is placed on your plate-- I will not have someone spread the rumor that I am not feeding my Empire Pet; perhaps others may mistreat their Pets but Den Thelyss is better than that.

[ Already he was summoning his Unseen Servants, there was a murmur in Undercommon, that strange hissing language that was the core language here in Rosohna, accompanied by a clap of hands-- bread and cheese to be brought up, as well as a bowl of thick seafood stew. ]

I will have you tattoo'd with my mark as soon as we have you outfited, and if you please me and are obedient, I will switch out that ugly collar for mine own. [ Incentive. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[It took all Bren's willpower not to turn to follow the path that the Shadowhand took, but he did manage to keep still, his eyes following Essek until he was out of sight, eyes finding him once he reappeared in his periphery. Still that lingering thought at what judgment was being passed on him, what Essek saw looking at him.

...and apparently what he saw was the visible ribs. Another nod. He would not argue eating anything put in front of him. He'd barely subsisted in his state in Vergossen and Ikithon had not cared much for seeing him fed any more than was necessary to keep him alive to present to the Shadowhand.

Something flickers in his eyes at the promise of a different collar. Even if it still was spelled to keep him silent, at least it wouldn't be the one placed there by Trent Ikithon, and that already was an unimaginable improvement. He could be obedient. He could please his new master.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek was done with his assessments, he already was formulating what he would ask for when he took Bren to his tailor's shoppe, nothing too flashy, but which would still press upon the point that this Empire Pet was his. The proper way to do his hair, the acceptable garments, the pattern of his makeup; the tattoo. All of these little things would come together let everyone know that this man was his Pet.

And he was also hellbent on making sure that his own was turned out nicer than he knew for a fact Adeen cared for the management of his own Pet.

The food was brought up, placed on the coffee table by unseen hands-- a tray of food. To which point Essek waved a dismissive hand toward the coffee table. ] You have my permission to eat.

[ That threat still stood however. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren only hoped that when it came to being tattooed it would not involve his arms. He did not want to be marked like other Volstruckers, did not want to bear anything like those marks. The scars he already wore were bad enough.

He could smell the food before it appeared, and his stomach gave a rumble; it was not silenced by the collar, after all, only his voice. Still, he did wait until he was given permission. A moment of hesitation as he looked down at the pile of his clothes at his feet. No permission had been given for him to clothe himself though, so instead he moved towards the table.

Bren dropped to his knees by the coffee table and reached for a piece of bread. His gaze flickered up to look at Essek for a moment as if for confirmation before he took his first bite.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Despite being seemingly dismissive as he sat at his desk and penned a missive to his tailor to pay a call on him at his residence tomorrow morning, and bring everything that was needed to build a Pet Wardrobe, he was paying attention to the way that Bren hesitated only a fraction at his clothing before crouching down to have his supper.

Honestly, Essek would not have minded overly much if Bren had chosen to cover himself up even a little. The need to have his Pet naked twenty-four seven was very low on his list of priorities but the Volstrucker did exhibit something valuable.

And that was forethought. He did wave his hand for Bren to eat, an 'it's okay' sort of handwave, even as he finished his correspondence and then placed it in the hands of an unseen servant, who would then see it off in the correct location. Then he rose up from the chair; now that Bren was crouched, he allowed his feet to touch the ground-- and then he walked over to very lightly place his hand on the top of Bren's burnished copper hair. ] You are a very good boy, I did not expect to be so pleasantly surprised but here we are.

[ A stroke and then he was heading back toward his desk, where he then removed a very nice and elegantly bound book with crisp and clean parchment pages, and then as well a magick'd pen with ink within it-- it would need to be refilled ever so often but at this point in time it was full. He came back with it and laid it down for Bren, then rested the pen down lightly on top of it. ]

This is for you, a present. You may write anything you wish within it-- though I may ask that you use it to convey yourself to me when I ask for your words. [ He tapped against the cover lightly while he looked at that profile to see how his gift would be received. ] The ink will also have to be refilled within a few weeks depending on your use of it but I will never punish you for using too much and too quickly, nor will I take it away if you manage to displease me.

[ The Shadowhand decided to provide a little bit more clarity where expectations were concerned. ] My nature is to withhold further rewards, not take away ones already fairly earned.

[ There was a very brief pause. ] You may dress yourself whenever you choose to do so, Pet.

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren stilled mid-bite when Essek approached once more, noting the fact that his master seemed to have descended to earth this time. He wasn't expecting the touch, but the stroke of that hand over his hair and the words of praised that accompanied it had him nearly choking before he remembered how to swallow. It sent a jolt of something through him, shivery and electric. This man had spoken the first kind words to him that Bren had heard in years, and here was the failed Volstrucker starving for those scraps of praise. Was he really such a desperate, pathetic creature?

It would seem yes, especially the way his face lit up as he was given the blank book and pen and permission to use it as he wished. His lips twitched as if they were trying to remember how a smile actually worked, a subtle softening to his features, made sharp and lean by hunger and suffering, a flicker of who he might have been. Once upon a time.

He nodded his understanding once again. It was more than fair, that his master was offering these rules and expectations. Reaching for the book, he opened it slowly, taking up the pen in careful fingers. The first word written in the book, a strong, sure script with not much in the way of flourish, the handwriting of a man who wrote quickly as if he could not hope to match the speed of his thoughts but would keep up how he must. It was one simple phrase. 'Thank you.' He turned the page up to Essek so it could be seen.

He set the pen and journal down carefully, as if they were treasured things, still looking up at Essek, though bit by bit there was more presence in blue eyes, a growing curiosity about this drow who owned him now.]

[zauberdecke]

[ He looked down at the haphazard script in common and then he rested yet another hand on Bren's head, finding that he liked the feeling of fingers in the hair. It was perhaps a forward thing, and best only done in private, though he would argue that this Empire man was no more than a doll, and when one had a doll to play with, it was only natural to want to play with their hair, wasn't it? This man was not a Drow, was really nothing.

Essek told himself that because it made him feel better about himself.

He had never been one though to mistreat his toys; often times taking excessively good care of his belongings. Would put his playthings back on the shelf, store then appropriately; take then to get repaired when they became broken, keep them looking shiny and new. ] I have summoned my tailor to be here first thing tomorrow-- I have a social event I must attend in two evenings time, so perhaps something can be made ready for you by then.

[ His eyes strayed toward his wing chair. ] I will be passing the evening with a bit of reading, so after you are done eating and finished dressing, you will come and sit at my feet-- like a good boy, yes?

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren's eyes slipped mostly shut at the renewed touch, basking in it despite himself. He had no idea if it was forward or not, only knew that it simultaneously stirred and settled something in him -- and he'd have to think that over later when he was alone.

There was a spike of trepidation through him at the idea of a social event, the knowledge that he would be paraded around as the plaything he was, the eyes of countless strangers on him. He would not try to protest. This was his life now, the truth of his existence, and Bren knew that it was more than he deserved anyway.

Another nod at the question that was in reality a command. He turned his attention to the food, trying to stop the way his mind wanted to race, the way the anxiety in him wanted to spin up. It did not take long to finish the food that had been prepared for him, and for a moment he sat contemplating the feeling of actually having a full belly. The silence collar was likely a blessing in this moment because who knew what words would spill past his lips. He had so many questions, so many uncertainties.

He was a mess.

A moment spared to dress himself once again and Bren would bring himself over to kneel beside his master's feet as he'd been told. The journal and pen were set carefully beside himself, in reach, before he clasped hands behind his back. ...though he couldn't quite help but try to sneak a peek at what it was the Drow was reading.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Indeed, this was Bren's life- for better or for worse. It was not something that he'd very much control over; but then really the Volstrucker had not had much control in his life for a very very long time; so perhaps he should just endeavor to roll whatever waves this new life brought. The leather of the binding to the book was fine, the food had not been too bad either, and with crystal cool water to wash it down.

Even the bed in his caged room, it was not horrible-- just sparse (for the time being); the walls however were not white and his body was not encased in constricting clothing meant to bind and subdue. Altogether, so far it was shaping up to not be 'so bad' a life; if one just allowed oneself to just exist.

Essek was reading a tome in Undercommon, but there were sigils there-- strange magical sigils which would lead the other man to believe that he was reading something arcane and full of mystery-- at least mystery for someone who was not fluent in the drow language. When Essek was busy reading, he did not overly care what Bren did as long as he was positioned appropriately, in a kneeling position but if Bren wanted to write in his notebook, he'd probably have to beg permission to do so. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[All of this was better than what he had known -- in whatever part of him was consciously aware of his surroundings -- for a very long time indeed. That was part of the cognitive dissonance in him, that now that he was fully aware of the horrors of what he had done and what had been done to him, he was being treated well. He was a broken weapon, a blade that had shattered in the tempering and destroyed so much that he loved in the process.

Something in him preferred the pain, knew that it was what he truly deserved. He'd torment himself with that later, on his own, undoubtedly.

For now he looked at the language he did not understand and the magical sigils that he could at least recognize for what they were for, committing them to memory for later. Utter lack of self worth aside, Bren's mind was a curious thing, easily sparked and set afire with curiosity and the hint of knowledge to be obtained. He would have to find a way to learn Undercommon, he noted to himself. Doable, though it would take time.

He tried not to fidget where he was, but his gaze did drop to his notebook and then flicker back to Essek, unsure how to even begin to ask for permission given his current silent state. So he struggled internally, brow furrowed in thought.]

[zauberdecke]

[ Essek caught the fidget out of the corner of his eye, it was unavoidable and then there was the deep energy that seemed to encompass him. There was a brief moment where he had to reach for his bookmark, resting it very carefully within the folds and then he gave a very imperious incline of his head, there was something entirely unflappable about the drow as if he could weather any storm.

If there was any internal angst or dialogue, he gave absolutely no indication. ]

Yes, Pet? Do you have something to say? You may communicate it to me with your written words.

[ His eyes stray to where Bren had the book laying decorously to the side, his violet eyes full of expectations. It did not occur to the Shadowhand that a pet would be bored, and yet-- distantly, he thought that may very well be the case. Perhaps he would go a bit crazy if someone was reading and he was unable to do anything. ]

[ausgebrannt]

[Bren went still as if he had been caught misbehaving, but eased after a moment when it appeared Essek wasn't visibly unhappy with him. He nodded, reaching for the book, opening it to pen out his request, holding it up for Essek to read, a pair of pleading blue eyes watchin him over the edge of the book.]

May I write, while you read?

[Because he was not doing well being left alone with his thoughts at the moment. They were a dangerous place at the best of times, and even worse since he'd been drawn out of the mental prison of his madness.

His teeth worried at his lower lip, uncertain. Bren was not a man used to asking for much of anything for himself, and it felt like overstepping, less because he was expecting Essek to be strict or deny him, but because he was being more trouble than he was likely worth.]