✁ - - Not having undertaken anything drastic lately, the psychopath was spared the chain that kept him tied to his cell so often. The treatment in itself didn’t bother him as much as the boredom that followed did, even if ignorant prey never neglected to simply walk in and let themselves get trapped within his reach. For the time being he was free to go wherever he wished (anywhere outside of the institute’s walls excluded) and he intended to make full use of that fact— but it appeared someone had other plans for him.
Naveed was positively surprised to find the gift, his first thought being the question how it could have been smuggled inside unnoticed. “True craftsmanship,” he mumbled contently to himself, ignoring the youth entirely in favour of having a look at the letter. His eyebrows rose slightly as his gaze skimmed over the words, curiosity sparking. A secret admirer? Now whoever could have watched him so to be able of admiration? It was a mystery indeed, perhaps one that should never be solved for the outcome might be a disappointment… but an interesting game it was. Slender fingers folded the paper and thoughtfully slid it into a coat pocket. The doctors wouldn’t be pleased if they found out.
Finally his attention was turned towards the bound male, though Naveed wasted little time on visual examination— merely scooping the other up with the casual gentleness of someone picking a kitten from a litter. Light as a feather. Humming soothingly he carried the little thing towards his bed, where he put him down with an exaggerated care that smelled of mockery.
"Now then," the raven chirped, digits eagerly prying at the gag for he was all too curious. "Whatever should I name you?~"
Being carried like some child was both insulting and unpleasant, and it was made all the worse by how obviously taunting it was in nature. The only relieving thing about it was that he wasn't stuck curled up on that horrible, hard floor anymore; he could't say that being in this persons bed was a spectacular boost in situation, though. The first thing he does when the gag is removed is clench his snarl, growling lowly (or, at least as low as a cub such as himself could), before clenching his jaw shut and turning his attention to the wall so he wouldn't have to look at his new owner. For all he cared, he could go without a name for the rest of his life. Not having a name may be like not having a self to familiars, but it made resisting owners all the easier. A name was like a collar, at least to familiars from his particular lineage. It sealed the contract, a name alongside 'an action that shows that ownership has been claimed' and then it was all over, and the tiger would have no choice but to be loyal to this man.
