[01:16:42] Crow (melchior.wardell) entered the compound quietly, his attention immediately settling on Kazoo. He did not approach the sleen directly. Trust, he had learned, was easier to build when the beast was given a choice. Today, however, he needed answers. The injury needed proper examination, and the old collar beneath Kazoo’s fur had raised more questions than it had answered. He stated “Heel.” as he spotted the Sleen in hope the command was known.
[01:18:38] Kazoo had slept badly, curled deep within the straw of the shed as old memories stalked his dreams. Creaking timber. Salt. Iron bars. Men shouting. For a time Kazoo was back aboard the ship, trapped within his cage as the sea tossed it violently about, until came the crack of timber, freezing water and the terror of the wreck. He woke with a violent snarl, all six legs scrambling beneath him as his jaws snapped at bars that were no longer there. Only straw. The shed. The morning. His breathing gradually slowed, though the sharp musk of an agitated sleen filled the little shelter. Something pressed against his neck beneath the thick fur. The old collar. Kazoo twisted his head, teeth flashing as if he might somehow bite the hated thing from himself. He had escaped the cage and survived the shipwreck, yet still wore another creature’s claim around his throat. Then a voice reached him. “Heel.” Kazoo froze. His head turned slowly toward Crow, nostrils widening as he caught the man’s scent. The word was known. Somewhin that old life, someone had taught the beast exactly what it meant. A low, displeased rumble rolled from his chest. For several Ihn he simply stared at Crow, almost daring him to repeat it. Then, grudgingly, Kazoo crawled from the straw and moved toward him with that low six-legged gait, stopping close enough to technically obey. His flat head lifted toward the man, lips curling just enough to expose the tips of his fangs. He remembered the command. That did not mean he had to like the one giving it.
[01:23:27] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained still as Kazoo emerged from the straw, watching the beast rather than the collar he so clearly despised. The command had reached something buried deep within him. He noticed. His gaze moved briefly over the sleen’s posture, the uneven weight on his injured side, the tension beneath his fur. Then back to those exposed fangs. “Good.” He did not reach for him. Instead, Crow turned and walked slowly toward the training pit, trusting the command rather than forcing the beast to follow.
[01:36:27] Kazoo grunted a little. He followed a few paces behind, stopping every now and then to steal a snap at the air or some urt running by. Simply because he wanted to, not because he was hungry. He was thinking he could run at Crow’s legs for a few moments but this passed. Only just. Pain won through over the simple need to want to kill everyone or everything in sight. Then came the training pit. The cages. The weird spiky objects in the corner. The beast froze. He growled and thumped his tail again. If Crow thought he was going in there – he really should think again. His whole posture changed.. Snarls, head moving from side to side
[01:38:43] Crow (melchior.wardell) stood in the center near the crates that held livestock. He stopped and reached to one of the crates with two vulo’s. Letting them out so the sleen could take them. He waited, his hands deliberately visible and away from the whip. “You’ve already decided I am not your enemy.” A faint tilt of his head. “Let’s see if you can decide I’m worth trusting.” He took one step backward into the pit himself, never taking his eyes from Kazoo. “And if you behave…” The faintest trace of amusement touched his voice. “…you may even keep all six legs today.” As he moved toward the edge of the training pit and stopped, leaving plenty of space between himself and the sleen. “Come on. You eat. ” His hand remained away from the whip. Only after Kazoo had entered the pit would he need the next part. From another pouch he quietly prepared a small dart, keeping it hidden for now. The sedative would not harm the beast. It would simply make him slightly dazed long enough for Crow to examine the injury and, if Kazoo allowed it, finally investigate that mysterious collar. Crow watched the sleen carefully. “Trust me just this once.” A faint dry smile touched his face. “I promise the food is considerably better than an urt.” He noted the gaze towards the cages and he shook his head “Those aren’t for you.” he stated as if he could read the animals mind.
[01:44:50] Kazoo remained planted outside the pit, six legs stiff beneath him as his head swung from Crow to the cages and back again. The growl never quite stopped. He remembered this man. Remembered his scent, his voice and that he had been near him before without bringing pain. That counted for something in the simple, suspicious workings of the sleen’s mind. But cages counted for something too. Cages meant ships. Iron. No escape. His tail struck the ground once with an angry thump. Then the vulos fluttered loose. Kazoo’s head snapped toward them instantly, jaws opening slightly as instinct wrestled with memory. Crow had entered the pit himself. He had not reached for the whip. He had not tried to force Kazoo inside. The sleen snorted heavily, almost as if deeply offended by the entire arrangement. Slowly, one paw crossed into the pit. Then another. His body followed low to the ground, all six legs carrying him forward with deliberate caution, though his eyes kept flicking toward those cages. He stopped just inside and stared at Crow for several Ihn. Trust him? Perhaps. Eat? Definitely. Suddenly he exploded forward after one of the vulos, jaws snapping for it with considerably more enthusiasm than was necessary. If Crow wanted him in the pit, then Crow could watch what happened to things foolish enough to run from a sleen. Adds that of course he was lumbering like he was still in pain on one side!
[01:50:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched Kazoo cross into the pit, noting immediately the way the beast favoured one side. The pain had not escaped him, despite Kazoo’s determination to pretend otherwise. Then the vulos moved. He barely had time to follow the motion before Kazoo launched himself after it, the sudden burst of speed made considerably less impressive by the uneven hitch in his gait. It amused him. “Of course.” He folded his arms, watching the sleen make short work of his chosen prey. “You can barely walk properly, but apparently that is no obstacle when something decides to fly.” He waited until Kazoo had finished before producing another piece of meat. He tossed it deeper into the pit, away from the cages. “Eat.” His gaze remained on the injured side. “And then you are going to let me look at that leg. You may growl.” The faintest smirk. “You may glare.” He reached slowly toward his pouch, keeping the movement deliberate and visible. “But you are not biting me again.”
[01:58:10] Kazoo had caught the vulo eventually, injury or not, crushing it between those enormous jaws with absolutely no concern for manners. He was a beast, after all. What did Crow expect? When the other meat was tossed deeper into the pit, Kazoo’s head turned to follow it before his gaze shifted slowly back to the man. No. That was already dead. Where was the fun in that? With what could almost be called an insultingly dismissive look, the sleen lowered himself right where he stood instead, stubbornly refusing to move another step. His lips pulled back to bare his fangs at Crow, eyes dropping briefly to the man’s bandaged hand. He remembered that. Remembered the scent and taste of the blood he had drawn. His attention sharpened when Crow’s hand moved toward the pouch. Nothing escaped the sleen’s notice now. Kazoo’s head shot forward with a vicious snap of his jaws, not quite close enough to bite, but certainly close enough to make his opinion clear. Whatever Crow was reaching for, Kazoo had already decided that if he didn’t like it, the man’s other hand might soon require a matching bandage.
[02:04:38] Crow (melchior.wardell) stopped the instant Kazoo’s jaws snapped toward him. He did not retreat, but neither did he make the mistake of reaching closer. His eyes dropped briefly to those teeth, then to the sleen’s injured side. “Message received.” Slowly, he withdrew his hand from the pouch and held it where Kazoo could see it. “You don’t want me touching you. Yet.” He crouched slightly, keeping his posture relaxed. “But that leg needs attention, and pretending otherwise will not make it heal.” He glanced toward the meat Kazoo had ignored. “Stubborn.” A faint smirk. “I can work with stubborn.” He reached into the pouch again, this time deliberately revealing the small dart before placing it on the ground between them. “No tricks.” His gaze returned to Kazoo. “This will make you sleepy. Nothing more. You will wake up with the same number of teeth, legs, and opinions.” He nudged the dart slightly with one finger. “And I will finally be able to see what happened to you. You decide when.” He then sat back on his heels, making no further attempt to approach. He was willing to wait and quite certain that when it came to patience, his own training on that subject had been thorough. “I have all the time.” He was very much aware that all the words were hardly understood, but it was how he comforted the animals in his care. Make them feel as if they were still in charge of all what was important.
[02:18:54] Kazoo grunted at him as he retreated his hand from the pouch. Kazoo had won. Momentarily. When Crow reached into it again, another growl rolled from deep within the sleen’s chest. Most of the man’s words meant nothing to him, but two caught his attention. Dart. Sleep. He wanted neither. He had only just woken up! His tail slammed against the ground as he stared at the little object Crow placed between them. Kazoo’s head lowered, nostrils working as he sniffed cautiously in its direction without getting any closer. Sleep meant vulnerability. Cages. Waking somewhere he had not chosen to be. No. His ears flattened and his gaze shifted from the dart to Crow, then back again. Yet the man wasn’t advancing. That confused him. Kazoo gave another irritated snort before deliberately stretching his injured leg out in front of himself, almost seeming to acknowledge the very thing Crow wanted to examine. Then his jaws opened in a wide display of teeth. Look all you wanted from over there. Coming closer was an entirely different matter.
[02:28:04] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied the sleen in silence. The extended leg was not surrender, but it was something. His eyes moved carefully over the limb without advancing. “Better.” He left the dart exactly where it was. “You understand more than you pretend to.” He shifted slightly, lowering himself so he was less imposing, his gaze remaining on the injured leg. “I won’t take your choice away. But if you show me the leg, I’ll respect the offer.” Of course he was no fool. The animal had given him little choice. He could not approach it let alone touch it and yet that was exactly what was needed to see that things would be addressed. He could enforce it. Use rope to restrain the animal but he wanted to build trust and with it that meant patience. Letting the animal know that he wouldn’t back down, but also not force it to something it did not wish or was meant to. It is why Hecate was so damned loyal and well behaved. The bond of trust had been a slow process but it had been forged almost like iron. Crow very much aware that it was still a sleen with natural instincts just as he was. He waited, making no attempt to touch Kazoo. “I might be able to help you with that leg … but you should allow me to touch you … ” he started the negotiation, for as far the sleen understood such.
[02:35:03] Kazoo kept his head low, eyes fixed upon Crow as that growl continued to rumble deep within his chest. He did understand. Perhaps not every word, but tone, posture and intent were things a beast knew well. Slowly, Kazoo shifted his weight onto his other legs and lifted the injured paw from the ground, holding it awkwardly before him. His head dipped once toward Crow, almost a nod, though the warning rumble never stopped. It was as close to permission as the stubborn sleen was willing to give. He would allow the man nearer. Perhaps even allow him to touch the injured limb. His eyes flicked pointedly toward the pouch, however, then back to Crow as his lips twitched away from his fangs. The message was equally clear. The paw was offered. Trust was being tested. But if that dart came back out of the pouch, negotiations were very definitely over.
[02:39:07] Crow (melchior.wardell) noticed the pointed glance toward the pouch and gave the faintest nod. “Understood.” Slowly, he reached into the pouch but deliberately pulled out a clean cloth instead. The dart remained where it was. He moved closer, one careful step at a time, stopping well short of crowding Kazoo. “Good choice.” He lowered himself beside the offered paw, studying it before making contact. His fingers moved carefully over the fur around the injury, testing for heat and swelling without pressing directly on the wound. His gaze remained on the sleen’s face. “You gave me your trust. I won’t spend it foolishly.” He gently examined the paw, searching for anything embedded, broken, or badly swollen. “And after I see what you’ve done to yourself…” The corner of his mouth lifted. “…we’ll discuss that collar.” he would look about himself seeing there was fresh water. “Now I first need to clean your fur to truly see how bad it is.” he would again move slowly. Building trust was to allow the animal to see what he did and to read the intentions behind it.
[02:48:50] Kazoo grunted, a sharp hiss escaping him when Crow took the offered paw and began examining it. Pain was hardly new to the sleen, but allowing someone close enough to find its cause certainly was. His head remained low, eyes following every movement of Crow’s hands while a warning growl vibrated steadily in his throat. The sight of the dart earlier stirred older memories of being owned, handled and caged. Kazoo shook his great head irritably, making the tight collar shift beneath his fur and that strange little compartment attached to it knock softly against his neck. A fly chose that moment to buzz past his nose and his jaws snapped after it with a vicious crack before his attention immediately returned to Crow. The paw was swollen and tender. Whether it had come from the fight with Hecate, striking the stalls, or something else entirely was lost somewhere in the blur. Since escaping that cage on the wrecked ship, Kazoo had done little more than survive as he had for many years before it. When Crow’s fingers found a particularly sore place, the paw jerked instinctively in his grasp and Kazoo’s lips peeled back from his fangs. Yet he didn’t bite. Instead, after a moment, he reluctantly offered the paw again, watching Crow closely as if to say he had exactly one more chance.
[02:57:22] Crow (melchior.wardell) felt the paw jerk beneath his fingers and immediately eased the pressure, making no attempt to hold it in place. The flash of teeth earned only a calm glance.“There.” His voice remained quiet. “I found it.” He waited as Kazoo reluctantly offered the paw again, then resumed his examination more gently, working around the swelling rather than forcing the sore point. “Bruised. Swollen. I don’t feel a break.” His thumb moved carefully along the limb, testing the joints one at a time.“You’ve been walking on this far too long.” He glanced briefly toward the collar as it shifted beneath the fur, the small compartment making a faint sound against the metal. His attention returned to Kazoo. “And you’ve been carrying that for longer than you’ve been carrying this injury.” He released the paw rather than keeping hold of it. “One problem at a time.” A faint smirk. “Today, we start with the leg.” He reached for the clean cloth, leaving the dart completely untouched.“You didn’t bite me. I’ll consider that progress.” with the wet cloth he slowly started to clean the fur so he could see if the pain was still from a wound that still needed to be closed.
[03:09:56] Kazoo watched Crow release the paw and gave a low grunt, almost approving of the fact the man hadn’t tried to hold him. Progress worked both ways, apparently. When the wet cloth approached, Kazoo immediately lowered his head, nostrils flaring as a growl began again, but he kept the paw where it was. The first touch made his muscles tense. As Crow cleaned away the dirt and dried blood tangled through the fur, the cause became clearer. A cut ran across the thick pad of the paw, not terribly deep but angry and swollen from being walked upon, and buried near one edge was a small splinter of wood. Kazoo hissed when the cloth passed over it and his jaws opened threateningly, head turning toward Crow’s hand. Still, he didn’t bite. Not yet. Instead his claws dug into the ground and he endured another pass of the cloth before giving Crow a look that suggested his patience was not limitless. His head shook again, making the little compartment upon his collar rattle against the metal. That seemed to irritate him almost as much as the paw did. He snapped uselessly toward his own neck before settling again with a disgruntled huff. Crow had been permitted to find the problem. Fixing it, however, might require considerably more negotiation.
[03:16:49] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s attention settled on the exposed cut, his fingers pausing when he spotted the small splinter lodged near the edge of the pad. “There you are.” He glanced briefly at Kazoo’s bared teeth. “I’m going to remove that.” His tone remained calm, almost conversational. “You may object. I would be disappointed if you didn’t.” He reached for a pair of clean tweezers, keeping his movements slow and visible. He waited a moment, allowing Kazoo to see exactly what he intended to do. “No dart. No cage.” His gaze met the sleen’s. “Just the splinter.” He carefully positioned the tweezers near the wood. “And if you behave, I’ll even pretend you weren’t threatening to eat me five Ihn ago.” It was in the sleens advantage that crow was a man of precision and a razor sharp focus. His work with tools was on point as long at the animal wouldn’t jerk his paw back. “I wonder if you have a name …” he mused. For some reason he liked to call his animals by their given name.
[03:23:50] Kazoo let out a yowl and a hiss at him. Words were one thing, obience… allowing him this close to see…. but taking it out? whatever it was? He’d tried several times himself. Licking, poking with teeth. Nothing worked. PErhaps he needed this human to help. But that was it. After that they were done. Once he wasn’t in pain, he wouldn’t stay or trust. Those cages, that feeling of being trapped again was something kazoo just didn’t want. Of course there was the collar too. Again it was too tight even though it moved around. Perhaps his skin below was even sore from wearing it so long. Perhaps he would allow…. A growl again and he lowered his head – fangs still presented but a little more accepting of the fact that the man was helping. For now.
[03:29:35] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched the change in the beast carefully. The fangs remained, the growl remained, but Kazoo had lowered his head. That was enough. “Good.” He waited another moment before bringing the tweezers toward the paw again, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “I know.” His voice was quiet. “You don’t like this. Neither would I.” He gently caught the splinter and began to draw it free, stopping immediately when Kazoo tensed too sharply. “Almost.” A final careful pull removed the piece of wood. He held it up briefly between the tweezers. “There.” He set it aside and cleaned the wound again, inspecting the pad before releasing the paw completely. “No cage.” His eyes moved toward the collar as it rattled beneath the fur. “And I haven’t forgotten that either.” He rose slowly, giving Kazoo space. “One thing at a time, beast.” A faint smirk. “You let me help with that too?” it was a question while he would see if the wound needed anything more.
[03:35:09] Kazoo would snarl loudly as the tweezers caught on the piece of wood in his paw. Pain etched on Kazoo’s face. Every muscle in his body was ready to pounce, flee or… attack. But he kept himself from doing so. Somehow he knew the man was trying to help. For a second he remembered the kind person who had found him as a pup in the wild. Raised him. looked after him. A flicker of this would be seen in his eyes. For a moment. He heard the word Cage too… it wasn’t passed over…. but it came with a No before it so he knew the two words together meant exactly that. He gave them a stare anyhow just in case and nudged Crow. He was trying to tell him that he wanted the collar off in his way. Whether he stayed afterwards was quite a different question.
[03:41:29] Crow (melchior.wardell) felt the nudge and looked down at Kazoo. The meaning was clear enough, even without words. After ensuring the paw needed nothing further. He would release the paw. His gaze settled on the old collar beneath the thick fur. “So that is what you want.” He crouched again, but made no immediate attempt to touch it. He studied the collar carefully, noting how tightly it sat against the beast’s neck and the way the small compartment shifted with every movement. “You’ve made one thing very clear.” His hand lowered slowly, stopping short of the metal. “You don’t want another cage.And you don’t want that collar either.” He looked into Kazoo’s eyes. “I can remove it. But I need to know what is beneath it first. If it has been there long enough, I won’t simply tear it away and risk hurting you.” He let his hand fall back. “You trusted me with the paw.” A faint smile was given with an almost apologetic smile. “Perhaps we can make that two things.”
[03:48:08] Kazoo stared at Crow for several Ihn, the growl still there but quieter now. His paw had hurt and the man had made it hurt more… then somehow less. Kazoo understood that much. When Crow’s attention moved to the collar, the sleen’s head followed his gaze before he shook himself violently, making the little compartment rattle once more. He hated that sound. Hated the weight around his neck. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Kazoo lowered his great head toward Crow and stretched his neck forward. It was an unusual position for the beast, exposing himself where normally he would protect his throat at all costs. A warning rumble reminded Crow not to mistake trust for submission. As the thick fur parted around the collar, it became obvious just how long it had been there. The metal sat far too tightly against his neck, almost buried beneath the fur. Beneath it the skin was red and rubbed raw, patches of fur worn thin or missing entirely where years of movement had caused the collar to chafe. Kazoo gave a small hiss as it shifted against the soreness, then nudged Crow’s hand toward it with his muzzle. Off. Whatever the man intended, that seemed to be the one thing Kazoo wanted him to understand. His eyes remained fixed upon Crow as he held himself unnaturally still, though the tips of his fangs remained visible. The paw had earned the man this much trust. What Crow did with it would decide what happened next.
[03:54:12] Crow (melchior.wardell) studied the exposed neck in silence. The condition of the skin beneath the collar told him more than Kazoo ever could have. His fingers hovered near the metal, but he did not touch it yet. “You’ve had this on a long time. Too long.” His voice was quieter now. He carefully examined the fastening, the raw skin, and the small compartment attached to it. He understood why the beast wanted it gone. “Alright.” He looked directly into Kazoo’s eyes. “Off.” Slowly, he reached for the collar, making certain Kazoo could see every movement. He would try to see if the collar was locked in a manner he could undo by hand or if it needed more tools. The last option he feared as he could see the skin already injured by simply wearing it. “Hold still. You gave me permission.” His hand settled carefully against the collar. “I won’t waste it.”
[04:00:03] Kazoo grunted, the low hiss and growl continuing as warnings even though his options were becoming rather limited. One word Crow spoke was understood perfectly. Off. Kazoo shifted his head to one side, exposing more of his neck and, if Crow looked closely, just beside the small compartment was a tiny lock that had kept the collar secured all these years. The movement caused the compartment to knock against him again and Kazoo snuffled angrily as its edge struck one of the bare, raw patches of skin beneath. This time the little compartment battered open. Kazoo froze. Inside, tightly protected from the elements, was a small rolled scroll and beneath it an old piece of rag, worn and faded with age. His head immediately twisted toward Crow’s hand, lips lifting instinctively as though suddenly uncertain whether he wanted the man anywhere near those things. Yet he stopped himself from snapping. Instead his head lowered again and he gave a deep, unhappy rumble, eyes fixed upon Crow. The collar could come off. Apparent whatever secrets it carried were coming with it.
[04:07:56] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s hand stopped the instant the compartment sprang open. His eyes went to the tiny scroll first, then the faded scrap of cloth beneath it. The collar could wait for a moment. Whatever had been hidden there had survived years of wear, water, and whatever life Kazoo had endured. Crow noticed the sudden uncertainty in the sleen’s eyes. “I see.” He did not reach for the contents. Instead, he carefully steadied the opened compartment with one hand, keeping the other well away from the scroll. “These belong to you.” His gaze returned to Kazoo. “I won’t take them.”Only then did he examine the tiny lock more closely. “But that collar… That comes off.” He produced a small tool from his pouch and began working carefully at the old fastening, taking particular care not to press the metal against the raw skin. “No cages. No dart. And apparently, no taking your secrets.” He worked patiently at the lock. “Just getting this damned thing off your neck.”
[04:13:35] Kazoo remained unnaturally still while Crow worked at the lock, though every scrape of the tool against metal brought another low rumble from his chest. The opened compartment shifted beneath Crow’s fingers and the little scroll loosened enough to reveal old writing upon it. One word remained clearly marked despite its age. Kazoo. At the movement of the compartment, the scrap of cloth beneath slipped partly free as well. It was old and weathered, stained dark with dried blood. The instant it was exposed, Kazoo’s nostrils flared. His entire body stiffened. That scent. Old now, faint beneath salt, metal and years trapped inside the collar, but known. His head jerked toward the cloth and he snuffled at it urgently, drawing the scent deep. For a moment the pit seemed forgotten. There was only water. Broken timber. The wreck. And somewhere amongst it, that scent. The same blood that had lingered around the shattered remains of the ship. Kazoo gave a strange, frustrated whine before it twisted back into a growl, his muzzle nudging toward the cloth but not taking it. Then his attention returned to Crow and the tool at his neck. He lowered his head again, allowing him to continue, though his six-legged body remained tense. The man knew something now that he hadn’t before. Kazoo had a name.
[04:22:26] Crow (melchior.wardell) ‘s movements slowed as the single word became visible. Kazoo. His eyes remained on the writing for several Ihn before shifting toward the faded cloth. The beast’s reaction to it had not gone unnoticed. “Your name.” He said it quietly, almost as though confirming something rather than asking. His gaze returned to the cloth, then to Kazoo. “And that…” He left the sentence unfinished. Carefully, he continued working the old lock, refusing to rush despite the sleen’s tension. At last there was a soft metallic click. He steadied the collar before allowing it to loosen, making sure the metal did not scrape across the raw skin. “There.” He slowly lifted the loosened collar away from Kazoo’s neck. His eyes settled once more on the old scrap of bloodstained cloth. “You remember that scent.” It wasn’t a question. He did not touch the cloth. Instead, he left it where it had fallen, allowing Kazoo to decide what to do with it. Then he looked at the old scroll again. “Kazoo.” A faint crease formed between his brows. “Now we find out who gave you that name.”
[04:30:40] Kazoo ‘s ears flattened at the sound of that name. Kazoo. Something buried deep stirred at it, a name almost forgotten beneath years of instinct and survival. He had come aboard that ship anything but tame, transported in a cage because those who had captured him knew better than to trust him loose. He remembered fighting them. Teeth against bars. Men shouting. Darts buried in his hide until his legs would no longer obey him. Then came the click. The collar loosened and, for the first time in longer than the beast could understand, its weight disappeared from his neck. Kazoo immediately shook himself violently, six legs shifting beneath him as though testing this strange new freedom. He scratched once at the raw skin before beginning to back toward the gate, his eyes never leaving Crow. The man had helped him. Kazoo understood that much. But help was not ownership, and without pain in his paw or metal around his throat, there was suddenly very little keeping him here. The bloodstained rag remained where it had fallen, carrying its silent link back to the wreck, while the scroll held one secret Crow had yet to discover. On its other side was another name: the person who had once owned Kazoo long ago. A person now dead. Kazoo gave Crow one final low rumble, no longer quite a threat but certainly no promise either, before edging closer to the gate. No cage. No collar. No owner. For the first time in a very long while, the sleen could simply choose where he went next.
[04:37:01] Crow (melchior.wardell) watched Kazoo begin to retreat toward the gate, but made no move to stop him. For a moment, he simply looked at the beast. No collar. No cage. Freedom. His gaze shifted to the open compartment and the faded cloth, then back to Kazoo. “You’re free to go.” He crouched and carefully retrieved the old scroll, keeping the bloodstained rag where it lay. “But before you decide to disappear…” He turned the scroll slightly in his fingers, noticing the writing on the reverse. “I think you should know something.” His eyes lifted toward the sleen. “I know your name. And now I may know who gave it to you.” He did not open it further yet. “You’ve earned the right to hear what it says.” He stepped away from the gate, deliberately leaving the path unobstructed. “No collar. No cage. Your choice.” A faint, thoughtful expression crossed his face. “But if you stay… prhaps we can find out what happened to the one who owned you.” He knew trust wasn’t earned overnight and yet he was certain the animal knew too that survival on his own was hard. It would be hunted, chased away, every day a difficult life as it was no longer fed but in search for its next meal.”Perhaps in time you might even see the benefits of remaining and who knows once you will trust me enough to place a well fitted collar that bares my sigil to warn those that wish to harm you.”
[04:44:09] Kazoo stopped near the gate. One more step and there was nothing between him and freedom, yet the sleen did not take it. His head turned slowly back toward Crow, ears twitching at the familiar sounds amongst all those words. His name. Stay. Collar. That last one earned an immediate growl, his lips lifting enough to show exactly what Kazoo thought of ever wearing another one. But he did not leave. The beast looked beyond the gate for several Ihn, nostrils working at the air. He knew what waited out there because he had already lived it. Since losing the one who had once cared for him there had been hunger, hunting and being hunted. Then the ship. Capture. Bars. Pain. Darts that stole his senses and left him waking helpless inside a cage. Here there was food. Water. Straw. No bars around him now, and the man had removed the thing that had hurt his neck instead of replacing it. Kazoo turned away from the gate with a disgruntled snort and prowled several paces back into the training area, though deliberately not toward Crow. He lowered himself onto the ground and began licking at his injured paw as though the decision had absolutely nothing to do with anything the man had said. He would stay. For now. Not because he belonged here, and certainly not because Crow had mentioned another collar. Food, water and shelter simply made considerably more sense than wandering off recovering. Tomorrow, Kazoo might decide differently.
[04:49:19] Crow (melchior.wardell) remained quiet as Kazoo turned back into the training area. He watched the beast settle and begin tending to his paw, making no comment about the choice. There was no need to. He understood what had just happened. He lowered his gaze to the scroll in his hand, then carefully rolled it closed again. “Wise.” The word was directed toward Kazoo, though he did not expect a response. He placed the scroll and the bloodstained rag carefully in one of his pockets on his belt. He would take up the old open collar. “You’re right. You don’t belong to me.And I won’t pretend otherwise.” He stepped back, giving the sleen the space he clearly valued. “But you can stay. Eat. Sleep. Heal.” He turned away, leaving Kazoo undisturbed. “For today, that is enough.”
