mason thought the aeternum staff were getting lazier with their methods of punishment. it still left mason in a shitty mood and with a sore back for a few days, but it did nothing to fix his delinquent behavior but rile it up even more with the next master to come prodding at the half-wolf. the shame of being whipped public execution style in front of elites and slaves alike wasn’t nearly so unbearable later on, though mason still hated the stares of pity. when the guards released him from his rusty shackles and set him free topless and bleeding down his back, many stared. they mostly gossiped about why the guards bothered to keep a disobedient pet around because it was just a waste of cell space. instead of tending to his back, he rubbed his sore wrists and glanced up at a stranger–pet or elite–that had been staring. “take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he muttered.
there were a few times when armen used his stern voice and this was one of them. “you are coming with me.” reaching out he made sure to not touch an area that was bleeding before leading him to his tavern. it was by pure chance that he walked by the punishment that was put on display and he wouldn’t have stopped if it wasn’t that he recognized that back. it was one he stared at often. “what on earth did you do to deserve that?” it was the first question he asked the pet as he continued to lead him.
