Weaving a story of pity
#13
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Mahlouk listened to the male, but it was hard to look at him. He had been told since he was a pup to not look at others. Rightfully he was just a canvas and others were always looking over his scars reading them, they never looked into his strange eyes, because the stories were on his body. Though the males question made him almost look at the other, but he dropped his gaze quickly. "This male is not afraid, he just shows respect for you." He said still averting his eyes. He was truthful when he said this.

With his eyes on boo he spoke again. "Mahlouk knows he is big and strong, but he knows he is not better or equal." He confessed. The heat of the fire was still felt it made his stomach quiver in fear. It was why he kept a good distance between him and the other male. When someone was burnt repetitively they gained a respect for the flames. "Fire it burns, it has burnt his flesh before." Those strange eyes went to the flames. "They have burnt him many times." Mahlouk was far from retarded or lacking in thought. He was smart, but from birth he had been trained that he was no more then an image to the pack and weather he was smart or not did not matter to them.



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