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only moments later. He was short of stature, wore soiled clothes in need of mending, and had round eyes that seemed to twinkle as he spoke. “Food for you, my young friend,” he said as he slid a bowl of fatty meat and raw vegetables through a small slot at the base of the cage. “Food for you,” he repeated with a nod and a smile. Dolnaraq understood fragments of the human language known as German, enough to comprehend this simple statement. But he did not move toward the offered meal. Rather, Dolnaraq stared at the man with a hate known only between captive and captor. Dolnaraq would slay this little man one day. He would slay him and make a meal of him. “Food for you, my young friend.” Oh yes, food for Dolnaraq, but not such as this man could have dreamed.
    Dolnaraq’s cage was built on a flat-bedded cart and pulled by a single horse—an old gray and white beast with a sunken back and the odor of rotting teeth. The cage swayed and jerked with the movement causing the still-full bowl of slop to spill over onto the bare wooden floor. Dolnaraq felt the jolt of each bump and dip throughout the entirety of his left shoulder and neck. The pain would shoot directly into his head, nearly blinding him with piercing agony.
    They traveled for three days in total, but only this one time during the dark hours. Dolnaraq surmised that perhaps they were attempting to sneak from the nearby village where Tresset and he had hunted. This led him to conclude that they were hiding him, that for whatever reason, these humans did not want the other humans to know they’d captured the young molt.
    When finally the procession stopped, it was in a large grassy area on the outskirts of another small village. There was an immediate buzz of activity as the many human workers assembled booths and gadgets, stocking flimsy shelves with brightly colored stuffed toys and candies. A beast, much larger than Dolnaraq ever dreamed possible, was roped off with a simple stake just a few feet from Dolnaraq’s cage. The creature had dumb black eyes, floppy ears three times the size of a falcon’s wingspan, tree trunk-like limbs, and a long gray snout that writhed like a snake. The brute surely had the strength to free itself by wrenching the puny wooden stake from the ground. But, why then, did it remain a captive? This made no sense to the pained reyaqc.
    Once the general commotion had slowed to occasional shouts and curses, the small man with the worn clothing and the twinkling eyes again visited Dolnaraq. As before, he slid food through the opening at the base of the cage. “Eat, my friend. You must remain strong.” Dolnaraq did eat, but he felt anything but strong. His shoulder still shot with blinding bursts of pain. The thought that Tresset would rescue him heartened him some, but even this seemed a foolish hope. The group had traveled many miles; there were numerous beasts and humans in the company. Tresset could easily lose Dolnaraq’s scent in the foul-smelling blend. But Tresset would find him. He knew Tresset would do this. For surely, he would do the same for Tresset.
    The big burley man with the slits for eyes came by as the sun inched toward the final quarter of its daily journey. He grunted and nodded, then barked orders to a young worker tending the huge gray beast. The kid nodded and ran off to Dolnaraq’s left. The big man smiled then nodded again, mumbling something to Dolnaraq, though the molt did not catch the meaning. He then ambled away, apparently quite satisfied with himself. Dolnaraq would be quite satisfied when he opened the fat man’s bowels and spilled his innards onto the shiny green grass.
    The young man returned with four buckets of water—two wire handles in each hand. Setting all four of his sloshing metal burdens on the grass, he then lifted one of these, approached the cage with a sly grin, and tossed the water directly at the surprised reyaqc, striking Dolnaraq squarely in the chest. Dolnaraq howled in