The world spun as his he blinked his way into consciousness with a hiss of pain, head throbbing as a reminder of the gift which knocked him into unconsciousness in the first place. Raising a hand to cradle his skull, he started as he felt his movements come to a jarring stop; The cold press of iron and the clinking of chains filled his senses, drawing the Breton to take stock of where he was with a growing sense of both panic, and dread. His body lay upon a bedroll, and as he moved his arms he found both had been shackled to the wall behind him; Tugging brought no sense of yielding from the metal bands which clasped his wrists, nor to the stone in which the shackles had been anchored.

Turning his head to and fro, he furiously blinked away the pain and sleep to see the stone walls around him were less than he had thought; It seemed he had been left in the depths of some room carved from the stone around him; Evidence of rubble lay in thatched baskets, and his gaze took in the size of the alcove with what light was given from the torches lining the walls, and the crudely carved fire pit within the center. He had to marvel at the amount of effort in which it would have taken to clear the area into a den, such as it was. The sound of an echoing growl however tore his attention away from the ceiling and walls, only to focus upon the thing which had set his heart to nearly stop...His captor.

The Beast before him looked utterly massive. Obscured in night before, he had only seen a faint outline before he had fled, but now with the light of the flames, he beheld the form of the massive khajiit seated nearby, and pressed himself up against the wall, breath catching in his throat. "Let me go, monster! I've done nothing wrong!" he cried out, looking upon the ebon furred form in desperation.

Those eyes looked upon him as he spoke... No; They bore through him, drilling deep into his very soul. His mind screamed at him to flee, but shackled as he was he could only struggle, squirming beneath the gaze as it maintained itself upon him with the intensity of a predator upon it's prey. It was a full minute before the voice which he had heard in that forest filled the air once more, confirming it was indeed the khajiit which had spoken once before.
"Your freedom is no longer yours, little one; This one has taken it, and made it his. You are now [b]mine[/b]." The khajiit said, leaning forward to grab something within the fire, and toss it towards the cowering male.

Thinking it an attack, the Breton yelped, trying to lunge out of the way of the object. The shackles and his wrists both echoed their protest as they kept him bound to his position. With naught else to do, he flailed; hand striking out to knock the object onto the ground, away from him. Having his expectation of being burnt or ignited from the offending object, the bound male looked to the object with wary suspicion. What greeted him was not what he had anticipated at all.

Beef, steaming and drooling from the cooked fat lay there, and as the smell of wafting meat rose to his nostrils, his stomach protested with an audiable growl, eliciting a derisive snort from the khajiit. Looking from the beef to the khajiit, the gaze he gave provided both curiosity and offense at the khajiit's reaction. "Wha, why?" He demanded of those yellow eyes, fingers delicately reaching down to pluck the steamed meat from the floor, surprised at the ample chunks which lay skewered. His mouth watered as he strove to resist, but the days had not been kind, and his need was great. Will having failed him, he bit into the offered meal, lost within the satisfying sensation of a hot meal. The khajiit merely watched, letting his latest acquisition busy himself with eating. The only sounds for a time were of the pleased sounds of the captor as he ate, and the crackling of the torches.

Once all had been consumed, and the Breton had afforded himself a burp which echoed in the cavern, did the khajiit move, rising to his feet and moving towards his captor, the Breton gasped and tried to pull himself away from the encroaching form, but to no avail as a clawed hand engulfed his vision. Digits curled and squeezed at the head, eliciting a yelp of pain from the male. So preoccupied with his pain was he that he had not noticed the ability to grasp at the khajiit's wrist, shackles having clattered to the floor only moments before. He felt his body lift from the ground with the greatest of ease, and he clung to the khajiit's wrist to alleviate the burden upon his neck. The world whirled as he felt himself being carried with utter disregard to his care, and it was only a few steps later that he found himself being forced to the ground.

Kneeling as best he could, he hissed when the pressure was released from his head, and that clawed hand slipped from his head, to his neck. Thumb and finger encircled his neck and clenched, cutting off his air as he was forced to look into the khajiit's visage. The ebon lips of the khajiit peeled back to reveal surprisingly ivory fangs, and a warning growl reverberated into his very core, stilling him as he looked into his captor's gaze.
"You are [b]mine[/b], slave. You have given up your life to Derrajii the moment you sought to steal from him. You will obey, and you will not flee; If you do try, this one will make you beg for death before he is done with you. Is this clear?" A furious series of nods drew that hand to release it's grip, and the visage drew back with the rest of the khajiit to recline upon it's seat. A moment or two of coughing as he cleared his lungs, before the question passed from the breton's lips.

"Derrajii?" He asked, looking up to the massive form. "Is that your name, then?"
The inquiry drew a narrowed gaze from the khajiit, and the Breton stilled himself, looking down.
"This one's name is not yours to say, slave. You will call this one master, is that clear?

"But, I am no--" The words died out as Derrajii leaned forward again, clawed hand reaching out in reprisal. The Breton's arms shot up to shield himself, and he squealed out "I'm sorry, Master!" before the khajiit could enforce a punishment. The claws stopped their approach, only after a moment retreating to rest in the khajiit's lap once more.

"You are quick to learn, that is good; This one has much to teach you of your new life. Starting with your duty." Derrajii rumbled. The sensation of air being displaced drew the slave's eyes to look up, only to be met with his view to be encompassed of a vast sole. At first, he wasn't sure what to make of it, and merely stared dumbly at the sight before him.

This time, there was no chance to react; The punishment brought that foot to rush forward, slamming against the human's body with no small impact, rocking the Breton perilously towards the firepit. Instinctively, the Bretons arms encircled the foot, pulling himself away from the dangerous flames, only to be met with the feeling of the sole pressed against his cheek. Sputtering out, the Breton pulled away, but not before those large toes would curl, digging into the meager smallclothes, and pulling him close once more.
"
"This is your first job, slave; Your master demands you tend to his feet. Ease this one's burden from having to haul you to his home."

The words sunk into the slave's head with an increasing sense of dread and disgust; The gaze upon him though quelled any thoughts of rebellion, however. Slowly, reluctantly, those hands would raise, and press into the flesh of his captor, his...Master.

And so, he began fulfilling his first order, beneath the cold gaze of a predator of whom's mercy he fell upon.

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